Hot, Seventeen & Single
by dance-tilyou'redead
Summary: Santana and Rachel are both single on Valentine's Day. Rachel is okay with that, Santana not so much. This is what happened in my head after the Breadstix scene at the end of the valentines episode Season 2.
1. Lima Heights Where They Play Golf

AN: So I rewatched the Season 2 valentines episode cause I'm a geek with nothing better to do and I realised that I really didn't like how Santana was left all sad and single. This is what happened in my head. A little bit smutty, possibly reads like a romance novel except minus Reginalds quivering member. Please enjoy. Reviews are love.

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Santana's Upset. No scratch that she's fucking furious. How could they do this to her? Puck's refusing her clearly superior sexual advances to make time with the white rhino and Brittany hasn't let her touch her in weeks. It's goddamned frustrating in every sense.

The little scenario she devised to infect Finn and Quinn with mono had achieved absolutely nothing. Add to this the physical smack down with Zises and the verbal trashing she'd received from all of the Glee club, Santana is at the end of her rope. She's just about ready to curl up in bed with Ben, Jerry and Jack. The icecream to help ease the shame of being beaten down by Zises and the alcohol to help her recover from losing a verbal confrontation with Rachel Freakin Berry. Normally she'd get her cuddle on with Brittany to recover her self esteem but Britts has made it very clear that the gentle hand on her shoulder in the halls of McKinley is as good as Santana is going to get right now.

Santana honestly has no idea what gets her to Breadstix for Kurt's valentine's sing along. Presumably it's one last vestige of pride. A flicker of self respect that wont let her wallow in self pity. Even if she is a hot seventeen year old who is inexplicably single on valentines day, she wont allow herself to sink into despair. At least, not yet anyway. There is actually a chance that she could score a little physical comfort from someone at breadstix. She knows that Sam is going to be there. Not to mention all of those Dalton boys that Kurt is bringing with him. She honestly has no idea if a single one of them is even a little bit straight but she guesses she'll find out.

Pushing through the front door of the restaurant, she brushes past the staff members who at this point have learned not to make eye contact with her anyway. She takes a seat in one of the small couples booths and fixes the pink bow she has tied in her hair. She blatantly ignores the coupley mess that is Britt and Artie's table, throwing a half hearted glare at Puck who's sitting with Zises.

Sam is sitting alone at a table near the door and she briefly considers making a move there. But honestly, she's kind of still hoping that the mono plan will work on its own and she wont have to get directly involved in Quinn's break up. Plus that guppy mouth of Sam's is still taking some getting used to.

Speaking of oversized facial features. Rachel Berry walks in and sits in the four person booth on the other side of a low wall from Santana. She's looking decidedly dejected at her valentines singledom. Santana hates that for at least tonight, she has something in common with Rachel Berry.

Rachel is still wearing that uncharacteristically pretty blue-green dress. Santana couldn't help but admire it at least a little when Rachel sang her Katy Perry number earlier. It's still vaguely age inappropriate but at lease she doesn't look like a toddler or a grandmother. For some ridiculous reason she had pared the dress with white tights and Mary Janes but Santana has learned to use her imagination on days like these. She's seen Berry in Gym so she knows that there are some smokin-hot legs that even Berry's obnoxious personality can't entirely obscure. It's surprisingly easy for Santana to imagine Rachel in that dress with bare legs and some sexier footwear.

When the Warblers start up with the first notes of a song she recognises she can't help but smile. They're really a pretty talented bunch of boys even if Santana would never admit that to a single one of them. She glances at Rachel and her smile remains in place when she sees that Mercedes, Mike and Tina have joined her. Rachel turns to her and returns the smile hesitantly. She's been giving Santana some room after the way she reacted to her offhanded stripper comment. Santana hadn't expected to break down. Honestly it's nothing she hasn't heard before, in fact she's heard worse from her own parents. There was just something in the way that Rachel had said it on that particular day. Who knows, maybe it was just some wayward PMS that caused her to break down so easily.

Watching the boys from Dalton, Santana waits for one of them to catch her fancy. There isn't much really. They can sing but most of them have some seriously unfortunate gay face going on. She doesn't want to assume that they're all gay just because they're in show choir but at the same time, she's not sure if she could actually have sex with any one of them if there's the slightest possibility that they might be thinking about guys while it's happening. Santana grimaces at that possibility when she spots a tall blonde boy that could work. No sign of gay face even in the midst of all the singing and he looks like he's pretty strong, maybe an athlete of some description.

Santana thinks that this could work and she just needs Kurt to introduce them but then. Dammit. Blondie boy has a girlfriend with him complete with loving family. Fucking hell. She glances back at Sam again but sees that he's texting with someone. By the sappy expression on his face it must be Quinn. Maybe tomorrow they'll finally break up. But for now it looks like Santana will be spending the night with her old friend Jack Daniels.

She leaves the restaurant with all its disgustingly happy occupants and walks towards the bottle shop. She pulls her fake ID out of her bag hoping that she wont need it. She pulls the pink bow out of her hair and unbuttons her jacket. She runs her hands up the front of her body, pulling the hem of her skintight dress higher up her thighs. She tugs at the top of the dress and makes sure her cleavage is on full display. Her new boobs may have gotten her dropped to the bottom of the Cheerios pyramid but in this moment she feels that it's all worth it. She's slowly climbing back up to her rightful spot at the top of the pyramid and the shit she gets away with simply because of the overspill of flesh on her chest is unbelievable.

Sure the recovery had been pretty awful and she's pretty sure that she may have said some regretfully _truthful_(read: declarations of undying affection)things to Brittany in her drug haze. Sure she lost a huge chunk of respect with Coach Sylvester. She may even lose a certain sliver of self respect every time she uses the physical assets God and Dr Friedberg gave her. But it's moments like these when she walks into a bottle shop with her head held high that she thinks it's all worth it. Santana side-eyes the guy behind the counter as she approaches the shelves containing the hard liquor. He's staring at her chest so she picks up her bottle of Jack Daniels and a bottle of vodka for good measure. She knows this guy wont be looking at her face any time soon and she probably wont even have to pull out the dodgy Hawaiian drivers license.

She approaches the counter. The guy is still staring squarely at her chest, only looking away long enough to scan the bottles and put them in a bag. Santana pulls out the correct money and throws it on the counter. People are awful, she concludes as she walks away with the alcohol under one arm.

"Santana." she nearly has a heart attack when someone suddenly says her name from beside the door. She whips her head to the left and glares at the person stalking her in front of a liquor store.

"Fucking hell Berry, lurk much? You gave me a freakin heart attack."

"I apologize for startling you Santana. I noticed you leave Breadstix alone and I thought now would be an excellent opportunity to speak with you."

Santana had no urge to hear any of Rachel's inane, self obsessed rambling so she ignored the girl and stalked away towards her car. "You have the time that it takes me to get to my car to say whatever is on your mind Smurfette."

Rachel yelps and leaps away from the wall when she realises that Santana is serious. "Well Santana I wanted to speak with you at length if I could but I had to wait for you outside because I didn't want to 'blow your cover' as it were."

"What the hell are you on about Berry?"

"Well I know that you are underage so assumed that you were engaged in some kind of sophisticated ruse in order to obtain the alcohol which you are now presumably carrying. As much as I don't approve of your underage exploits I felt that it was your choice to engage in such an activity and I therefor didn't wish to get you in trouble by appearing by your side since two teenagers in a liquor store is much more conspicuous than one."

"So you didn't come to talk me out of drinking?" Santana rolls her eyes.

"No I came to aplologise to you."

"And what could you possibly have to apologise for? Your personality? Because I'm not sure if I'm ready to forgive you or your parents for that."

Rachel ignored the barb, "Actually no, I came to apologise to you for what I said the other day about your future employment prospects."

She meant the working on a pole comment. The one that had Santana inexplicably bawling in the corridor. "Don't bother Berry, it's already water under the bridge. In fact it's pretty much a hydro plant right now because I really don't give a shit what you think."

"Is that why you left the room crying?"

She had a point but Santana felt no urge to concede it since she had reached her car and would soon be at home with her happy supply of alcohol.

"Look Berry, you can think what you want," Santana has to dig through her bag to find her keys. "But right now I have a date with a bottle of Jack which means that I don't have time to listen to you wax poetic about your feelings for—" Rachel had started walking away from her, down the length of her car. Santana was mildly disappointed that Rachel hadn't persisted a little longer. "What are you doing?"

Rachel ignored the question and continues walking. Santana rolls her eyes, resisting the inexplicable urge to follow her. She presses the button to unlock her car and opens the back door to throw the alcohol under the seat. She doesn't need to get pulled over by the cops with two bottles of hard liquor rolling around on her front seat. When she straitens up she sees Rachel directly opposite her opening the passenger side door.

"What the hell are you doing Berry?" Rachel ignores her and flops down into the passenger seat. "Seriously Smurfette, I don't have any patience for your Gargamel baiting tonight." She's getting flustered as she gets behind the wheel and puts the keys in the ignition.

Rachel giggles, watching Santana, "Does that make you Gargamel Santana because I'm not sure what that says about your self esteem in this moment."

Santana just rolls her eyes, "Would you please just leave me alone."

"Not until you accept my apology," she pauses, glancing towards the backseat. "And promise that you wont be drowning your sorrows in alcohol tonight."

"Just get out of my fucking car Manhands." Santana hadn't been using these kind of insults lately partly because she had grown out of the desire to tear people down with gender based slurs, and partly because she hadn't been able to help but notice that Rachel was not in the least bit manly. Strong and defined features certainly, but definitely very feminine.

"Wow Santana,I haven't heard that one in a while," she picks her hands up from her lap and holds them out in front of her. "I thought you must have finally noticed that my hands were actually as petite as the rest of me. Or I hoped that maybe we had moved past that unpleasantness having bonded over Glee club. I guess I was wrong on both counts. Or is it because I really did hurt your feelings so much that you now feel the need to hurt me in return?"

Santana remains silent, gripping the steering wheel hard and counting to ten. She'd been forced to see a counsellor after a little incident involving a slightly bludgeoned opposing head Cheerleader earlier in the year. The counsellor had decided that Santana had some anger management issues and even though the useless old woman had so far failed to help identify or resolve any of her issues, Santana had started practicing some of the techniques to keep her temper in check.

Reaching ten Santana turns to Rachel who is looking so fucking ernest it hurts, "Look Berry, if I tell you that I'm fine and I forgive you will you get out of my car and leave me alone?" Rachel hesitates a moment before nodding. "Fine, I forgive you and I'm fine. Now get out of my car."

Rachel just shakes her head. "No, I don't believe you. And I suspect that the bottles of alcohol currently under your seat are going to be substantially more empty in the morning. And quite frankly I don't want your alcohol poisoning on my conscience."

Santana doesn't know what to say. Rachel is actually reaching for the seatbelt and settling into the seat. "Are you kidding me right now? You seriously want to what, come home with me right now? Do you even know where I live? What about your car?"

"My Dads dropped me off so I don't need to worry about my car. As for where you live, I've heard you say quite a number of time that you live in Lima Heights Adjacent. And that is actually quite close to where I live."

Santana just shakes her head. She'll take an empty house and a bottle of Jack over Rachel Berry's company any day, "No, I'm not taking you to my house. There is no way."

"Why? Is it because Lime Heights Adjacent is less _'Lugar donde suceden cosas malas'_ and a little more _'Lugar donde la gente rica jugar al golf'? _Because I'm afraid that I already know you to be slightly less ghetto than you wish to appear."

"Screw you Berry, Lima Heights Adjacent is not where rich people play golf. Hang on a second. Since when did you speak Spanish?" Santana is completely stunned. She had no idea Rachel could even understand spanish let alone that she could speak spanish fluently. So fluently that Santana barely even noticed the slip out of english. It was like being at home when her parents would slip easily between Spanish and English and Santana just had to keep up.

Rachel blushed just a little, "Well it's kindof my fallback if my broadway dreams fail to be fulfilled." Santana has to fight to hide her shock. She always thought of Rachel as being naively dedicated to her dream. That she would never even consider failure as an option. Yet here she was admitting to Santana of all people that not only had she considered that she might fail, but that she had a backup plan.

"Your backup. You plan on becoming a concubine to a spanish drug lord?" Santana can't help but tease just a little even though she is fascinated. Even Mr Schuester who is meant to be teaching the subject barely had a grasp of the language. Yet here was Rachel, a girl apparently destined for New York, just blurting out the words like a natural.

Rachel glares just a little, "No, although I'm flattered that you think that I could become a permanent escort for a high powered business man," she smirks a little and Santana is—once again—surprised at Rachel's easy humor, joking about her potential involvement in the sex industry.

Rachel continues, not waiting for any acknowledgment of her joke, "My Daddy is a bit of a sucker for Spanish soap operas so I've been watching them since I was a small child. When my Dad heard me speaking Spanish he...well at first he tried to convince my Daddy to stop watching those shows with me around but then he realised how useful it is to be bilingual in today's multicultural societal landscape. I took lessons for two years and the rest as they say is history. I'm afraid my vocabulary is fairly limited to certain phrases useful only in the most turbulent of emotional times. Things like _Oh Ronaldo por favor no me dejas así_ or even _Yo estoy enamorado de mi padastro._ But I'm quite proud of the authentic accent I've managed to cultivate." Santana can't help but laugh especially with Rachel fluttering her eyelashes when muttering her absurd spanish phrases. Rachel smiles as she finishes explaining, "So my fallback should my Broadway dreams be dashed is Spanish soap operas. More specifically staring in."

Santana blinks at her, trying to get a grasp on the girls sincerity. Rachel just waits for her to speak again. Finally after at least half a dozen blinks and several silent moments Santana bursts out laughing, "I had no idea you even knew how to be funny Rachel Berry."

"I'm actually quite serious Santana," Rachel is blushing thoroughly now, "That's why I don't tell anyone. Except now I've told you I suppose everyone is going to know now." she pouts.

The look on Rachel's face just makes Santana laugh even harder. She decides that maybe Rachel Berry's company could be better than an empty house after all, "Okay fine. I guess you're coming home with me," she clicks in her seatbelt and turns the ignition. "Just so long as you know that you literally asked for this _mi pequeña estrella._"

She laughs heartily as Rachel rolls her eyes and double checks her seatbelt is definitely clicked in place. An easy silence settle in the car as Santana pulls out of Breadstix. She finds that she doesn't mind the other girl being there so long as she isn't speaking. She takes one hand off the steering wheel to fiddle with her stereo. There is a top forty station tuned in and when she turns it up she realises that they're playing Journey. She glances at Rachel and sees that she has scrunched her nose up at the song playing through the speakers. She quickly switches to the CD in her player. She usually plugs her mp3 player in as soon as she gets in the car but she still has a few CD's floating around. She likes having the album artwork handy even if the only time the CD gets a play is the first time it gets loaded to her iMac.

The stereo whirs to life and Santana rolls her eyes at the archaic technology. Having to wait for a spinning disk to be read seems so pointlessly slow when compared to the solid state drive in her MacBook Air and her iPhone. Finally the music starts and Santana turns the volume even higher. She glances at Rachel and realises that she is singing along.

"You like Cat Power?" she asks and kicks herself for engaging Rachel Berry in conversation again.

Rachel nods enthusiastically, "Yes I do and I'm surprised you know her actually, since I had made the assumption you were more a top 40 type of girl—"

"And how would you know anything about the type of girl I am Rachel?" Santana instantly snaps, cutting the other girl off.

"You just called me Rachel."

"Would you prefer Man Hands?"

"No, I just...I mean...You've never..."

"Spit it out Smurfette before I drop you on the side of the road."

Rachel gulped, "I didn't mean to insinuate anything offensive, I just meant that going by the songs that you sing in Glee there seemed to be a typical style. As much as your voice certainly lends itself to Amy Whinehouse and Tina Turner I might have thought that you would have found an opportunity to sing some Cat Power if you knew her. Certainly the sultry timbre of your voice would make for a very...sexy rendition of any one of her songs."

Santana can see that Rachel is blushing again and feels her ire fade. "Yeah well, I don't see you making much effort for anything outside of show tunes," she thinks of what Rachel sang in Glee that day. "And Katy Perry."

Rachel nods again, "I guess you have a point there."

Santana glances over at her, "Less than ten words and you're done? Have I silenced Rachel 'rambling sentences' Berry?" Once again Santana is kicking herself for encouraging a response.

"While I can concede that I have been known to speak in over long sentences, frequently involving words normally relegated to college classes discussing political science I believe that I have learned to express myself in a way which allows my fellow classmates to understand my meaning in most circumstances." Rachel takes a deep breath and then laughs.

Santana realises that she is laughing at herself and raises an eyebrow as she looks over at her passenger, "Yeah I guess you're still working on that, huh. Although I'm not sure why you would bother. I mean you'll be leaving all of us in the dust when you leave for for your Broadway dream anyway right? I thought you didn't care what other people thought about you."

Rachel looks at her like she's not sure if she's being serious, "I'm not sure if you've noticed Santana but I have something of a pathological need to be popular. Look at the boys I've dated. Finn, Noah. Do you think I pick either of them for their charm?"

Santana can't help but laugh at that, "No I guess you didn't."

"Not to mention that I got well and truly sick of seeing Finn's eyes glaze over _every_ time I would speak to him."

"Yeah I'd imagine that would get pretty old pretty fast. I can't say I actually spoke to him that much—" she cut herself off as she remembered the fallout from the revelation that she and Finnocence had slept together.

"No I don't suppose it takes much to get a sixteen year old boy to jump into bed with you."

And now things are really fucking awkward. Santana congratulates herself on her ability to run a conversation into the ground. Then she remembers that she hadn't wanted Rachel there in the first place.

"Look, Berry I can just drop you home and we can forget all of this. I mean its not like you really have to apologise to me after all the crappy stuff I've done to you." She tries not to grimace as she realises that what she said almost sounded like an apology. Santana Lopez does not aplogise. Not even to Brittany. Unless she really hurt Britt's feelings. Or if Britt withheld sex over something Santana did.

"Are you still planning on drinking that alcohol Santana?" Santana just looks at her. "Then I'm coming home with you."

Santana sighs and turns the volume on the stereo louder to drown out the silence between them. She concentrates on the road and pulls into her neighborhood shortly after. She glances at Rachel a few times as they pass some of the larger houses(read: mansions) in Lima Heights. The truth is that while Lima Heights Adjacent _is_ on the wrong side of the tracks it's not actually where Santana lives. Her Abuela lives there so she does know that neighborhood quite well. She'd even gotten involved in some nasty scraps as a kid there. Mostly just hair pulling but it totally counts. Where Santana lives now though with her parents is the adjoining suburb of Lima Heights which is one of the newer developments in town with some of the largest McMansions Lima's ever seen.

When she stops outside her house the windows are all dark but the street lights are bright enough for Rachel to see exactly the kind of place Santana lives.

Rachel gapes at the house and then turns to Santana, "Where's the Golf Course?"

Santana rolls her eyes and opens her door, "Just get out of the car will you. I haven't got all night."

Rachel grabs the bag at her feet and follows her out of the car. Santana locks up and stalks up the pathway to the front door. She glances over one shoulder to see that Rachel's mouth is still hanging slightly open.

"Are you trying to catch flies or something? Maybe you and Sam can go into business together," Rachel just blinks at her. "Close your damn mouth Berry, you're not at a carnival." Rachel's mouth closes with a snap and Santana shakes her head as she unlocks the door and pushes it open, "Welcome to the Lopez residence."

She doesn't bother switching on any lights until she reaches the kitchen. She doesn't bother calling out to see if anyone is home either. There isn't. Her father is in Columbus for a seminar and her mother has gone off to some spa treatment with a bunch of other well kept housewives. Santana drops her bag on the floor and the alcohol on the bench. She grabs two glasses out of the cupboard without thinking and fills them both with ice from the dispenser built into the fridge.

Before she can register exactly what she's doing Rachel calls for her attention, "Santana I'm here to talk you out of drinking, not join you."

Santana's shoulders slump slightly. She really doesn't know how she had forgotten. Rachel Berry is standing in her kitchen, having followed her from a restaurant full of their friends on Valentine's Day night and it had seemed the most natural thing to just pour out a drink for each of them.

"Look Rachel—" Santana sees that little spark in Rachel's eyes and corrects herself quickly. "Berry, it's valentines day, we're seventeen and we're single. Don't you find that even a little bit infuriating?"

Rachel seems to really think through her answer before responding, "I guess it is mildly upsetting that most of the Glee Club has partnered up while I am alone on this particular holiday. But at the same time I think how lucky I am that I have all of these friends at all."

She gives a hopeless shrug which makes Santana shuffle uncomfortably. She cracks open the JD and pours a healthy dose into both glasses "Look Berry, I'm sorry if I ever," she sighs knowing there is no 'if' about it. "I'm sorry that I was always so—"

Rachel cuts her off, "No Santana you don't need to—"

"Okay you know what. That right there is bullshit. How come you're aloud to apologise and I'm not? Huh?"

Rachel looks sympathetic and Santana takes a drink. The alcohol burns but it's better than looking into Rachel's gentle, caring eyes.

Rachel looks down at the glass that Santana has poured her but doesn't move to pick it up as she tries to explain, "It's because I don't need apologies and you don't need forgiveness. I understand why you do and say all those hurtful things."

"Oh yeah and why is that?" Santana is scornful as she takes another sip of her drink.

"Because you and—and Quinn are obviously hurting in your own ways. Because I know about that hurt I don't let any of it bother me. Even if I am forced to carry extra outfits to school in case of Slushie attacks." she adds.

Santana tries not to look too guilty as she tries to divert the conversation, "What does Quinn have to do with anything?"

Now it's Rachel who's shuffling her feet awkwardly, "Well, I've watched both of you for the last few years," Santana raises an eyebrow as if to say _stalk much_ but Rachel hurries to explain. "I'm not talking about obsessively stalking you or anything. The both of you have been harassing me for some time. Self preservation can cause a girl to become pretty observant."

"And that's not creepy or anything," Santana states sarcastically.

Rachel ignores her tone, "So I've been watching you and I've noticed that both of you are very reserved. You're ambitious and talented and seem to have everything going for you but you are cut off emotionally from the people around you. These hard emotional walls have caused you to lash out at others as a part of your defense. I know that I present as an easy target and I have come to accept that you and Quinn are hurting inside far more than I am."

Santana is completely gob smacked, "So are you saying that you _let_ us treat you like dirt because you feel _sorry_ for us?" This is too much to process and Santana gulps down the rest of her glass and refills it immediately. She takes a deep breath to regather her thoughts. "So you are here to apologise for saying something mean to me right?"

"Correct, and to stop you from killing yourself slowly with illicit substances."

"Okay so let's get this over and done with."

"Let's get what over and done with?"

Santana rolls her eyes for the hundredth time that night. "The apology Berry, the apology."

"Okay right," she makes a show of clearing her throat and reassembling her features. "I'm sorry I said such awful and unfounded things to you Santana. Please accept my apology."

"Fine," Santana states abruptly and takes another long swig of her drink. "I accept your apology."

Rachel looks elated for a moment but then frowns at the glass still in Santana's hand. "But you're still drinking?"

"Yes. I don't see why one Dr Phil session would make me want to stop. In fact I'm pretty sure the last hour with you alone would be enough to drive me to drink." This isn't true and Santana is pretty sure that she enjoyed the car trip home from Breadstix more than any other moment in her day so far. She continues anyway, "Even if you weren't the most annoying person in existence I still have plenty of reasons to finnish this bottle," She drains her glass to emphasise her point.

Rachel looks truly put out by this pronouncement, "Then why am I here if you were never going to accept my apology and stop drinking alone in the dark."

"Because you wouldn't get out of my car," Santana shrugs. A new notion strikes her and the alcohol in her system prompts her to speak, "And you know I don't have to drink alone in the dark. Check it out," she gestures to the kitchen space they're standing in. "We have light so I'm not drinking in the dark and you're here so I don't have to drink alone."

"Are you suggesting that I drink with you Santana?"

"Yes I am."

"And why would I do that?" She asks, sincerely looking for an answer.

"Because you are glad that you have friends around you on valentines day." She picks up the other glass and holds it out to Rachel. "And I need to get drunk so that _I_ can be glad to have friends on valentines day too."

Rachel takes the glass from Santana, continuing to look extremely hesitant. She sniffs at the alcohol with a grimace, "Do I have to drink it straight?" she asks.

Santana grins in accomplishment and opens the fridge to find a mixer. She finds a bottle of Coke and offers it up to her. "Run out of excuses yet Berry? Or are you really going to leave me here to drink in the dark. Alone." She wiggles the bottle under Rachel's nose until she finally takes it from her, topping up her now whiskey and coke and taking a sip.

"One drink Santana and then I'm calling my Dad's to take me home."

"Nuh uh shorty. You're staying here. Do you really want your Dad's picking you up with alcohol on your breath? Of course you don't. Just send them a text saying you're fucking your behemoth boyfriend Finnpotent tonight and won't be home till morning."

"Don't be vulgar Santana. And Finn and I have broken up in case you hadn't noticed. I'm also sure that you know I haven't done..._that_ yet."

Santana didn't know that, "Umm. Why the hell not? I mean Finn's nothing to brag about but Puck is always worth a go and even, well Jesse was at least, I don't know, older? Please tell me you at least got to third base with one of them."

Rachel blushed. "Not that it's any of your business but no. I never felt comfortable enough to make that step. Finn got to second—to use you colloquialism—base but only because I needed—well I wanted other things from him," she finished obliquely.

Santana is genuinely confused. "Okay I have no idea what that means but seriously, how do you deal?"

"How do I deal with what?"

"With, you know, feelings. Like physical feelings. I'm pretty sure I would explode if I didn't have a few outlets."

Rachel's expression remained confused. Santana wondered if Berry was just bating her. "Sex, Berry. Stimulation. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I remember that little speech you made to the celibacy club in Sophomore year. How you said that _girls want sex just as much as boys._ That and if I remember correctly it's _the dirty little secret they don't want you to know._ I thought Quinn was honestly going to punch you. That or Jew Fro was going to pass out."

Finally understanding and then embarrassment washed over Rachel's face, "Yes well you may or may not have noticed that I did leave the room shortly after that little outburst," she looked a little ashamed. "You know, I thought I wanted Finn to like me? I didn't want to worry that he was already dating someone. I couldn't respect that the particular girl was president of the celibacy club. It didn't even occur to me that it must be difficult for a girl like Quinn to maintain her faith. With boys coming at her all the time because of the way she looks. It must have been difficult. I feel like none of us should have been surprised she ended up pregnant considering the level of repression she must have experienced at home."

Santana considered this particular evaluation of Quinn Fabray and compared it to what she knew of the Fabray household before Quinn got pregnant. She could easily concede that Rachel may be very correct in her estimation. "Repression. That does pretty much sum up the Fabray household in one word quite nicely Berry. Speaking of repression, you should probably call your Dads before they send out a search party. Not sure my rep could withstand stories of the Fathers Berry having to protect their darling offspring's virtue from the dastardly Santana Lopez." she smirks as she watches Rachel pull out her phone and send off a quick text.

Rachel sighs when she gets a text back after only a few seconds. "Daddy has told me that I am to stay safe. And to stay away from drugs. I guess they aren't as worried about my virtue as you thought."

"Does that mean I have a shot with you?" Santana is wriggling her eyebrows before she realises how flirtatious she is being.

Rachel blushes delicately but doesn't comment. Instead she shrugs out of her coat and wanders back to the front door to hang it on the coat rack. Santana shrugs out of her own jacket and slings it unceremoniously across the kitchen bench. She is topping up her own and Rachel's drinks when Rachel reenters the kitchen.

"If your dads are okay then I guess that means you can have a few more drinks Berry. And tell me what there is to know about this virtue situation."

Rachel laughs again and takes another sip of her drink. She seems to actually be enjoying herself and so is Santana. Rachel rolls her eyes ruefully as she answers Santana's teasing, "Well as I have already insinuated my 'virtue' is still intact from a couples perspective. But I can tell you that as for the 'physical feelings' you mentioned earlier, I have learned to appreciate the art of self exploration." she smirks as Santana splutters into her drink.

"But wouldn't you have to rub one out like twice a day? Sex has got to be less effort. I mean I'm in a pretty serious sex drought right now but I'm still keeping my options open so I know it wont be too long before I find a willing party."

Rachel blushes profusely, "It's hardly that often Santana and honestly I'm concerned about your Libido that you experience such...cravings for physical release." She looks thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe you need a new hobby or something Santana. Something to burn off the extra energy."

Santana just shakes her head, "If it was just extra curricula's I needed then it would be fine. Between Cheerios and Glee I only have so much time in a day. But I'm a sexual being," she says with a shrug. "When I needs to get up on someone, I needs to get up on someone. My hand aint gonna cut it."

"I had come to understand that you had several options for _someone to get up on._ Is that no longer the case?" Santana was pleased to see that Rachel was continuing to consume the drink she had been given and was starting to loosen up.

"Well, sure there is a whole mess of people ready to get all up on this," she shrugs again. "But I guess I've been a little more selective lately."

"So it's a self imposed _sex drought_ as you call it. Why is that. I had imagined that any exclusivity in your sexual relationships with Puck and Brittany had been ended when both parties chose to be monogamous with their current partners."

Santana scowled, "Fuck you Berry, what do you know about me and Brittany? Nothing. So stop using big words to explain something you know jack shit about okay?"

Rachel looked suitably put down and a small pout crossed her features, "Sorry Santana, I didn't mean to push across any boundaries. I merely thought that you would have found a suitable sexual partner easily given that you are an extremely attractive girl with as you well know a certain reputation for sexual prowess."

"Damn straight munchkin. I can have any stud at McKinley if I want them." Santana humphed with her arms across her chest. She quickly uncrossed them when she realized that she couldn't drink with her hands stuffed into her arm pits.

"Munchkin?" Rachel had a certain glimmer in her eyes that made Santana want to roll her eyes. "That's usually more of a term of endearment isn't it?"

"Whatever, I really didn't think about it that much before I said it."

"Well, then surely that means it was something of a Freudian slip?"

Santana scoffs, "Whatever Berry, I'll go back to man hands if you don't drop it."

"You know you never did suitably explain to me why you stopped calling me ManHands."

Santana just shrugs, "I don't know, I guess it didn't feel right to try and put someone down based on their gender or whatever," she said it as quickly as possible not wanting to lie at this point but not really wanting to drag out the truth for all to see."

"Is that because you have been making discoveries about your own fluid sexuality?"

"Screw you Berry. There's nothing fluid about my sexuality."

Rachel looks shocked for a moment at Santana's reaction but then she starts to giggle. "Fluid?" she says. "Well I think some people have been doing you wrong if there's nothing fluid in your sexuality. Ha!" she laughs even harder at her pun.

"Yeah, yeah Berry I get it. Fluid as in wet. As in sex and getting wet. Laugh it up." Santana tries not to laugh as she glances at Rachel's empty glass. She's drunk. "You're drunk Berry. You are such a light weight."

"Oh hush, I'm tipsy at best. Doesn't stop you from wanting me Santana Lopez." Rachel looks momentarily shocked at her own words but she makes no effort to amend her statement.

Santana just laughs, "Oh is that what you think Berry? Cause I've stopped calling you Man Hands that I'm secretly jonesing for you? Well I've got news for you."

With that Santana crossed the short distance and pulled Rachel into her arms, "I think you might be right."

Santana knows that she isn't drunk, she knows that she hasn't had enough alcohol to even think about blaming her actions on the drinks she's had but Rachel is right there. She's warm and soft and as it turns out hilarious and quite possibly very into her. Santana takes Rachel's empty glass and places it on the counter. They look at each other for a long moment and Santana sees that there really isn't much difference in their heights after all. She pushes a lock of hair behind Rachel's ear and moves a little closer so that their bodies are pressed together. Rachel is wearing a small crease of confusion between her brows but doesn't pull away.

When their lips finally crash together Santana doesn't know which of them moans into the other first. There is a pretty good chance that they both are moaning simultaneously. Their lips mold together perfectly and they luxuriate in the feeling for some moments both pulling at the fabric of each others clothes in an attempt to get closer. Santana is more agressive of course and she pushes Rachel against the kitchen counter. Rachel lets out a small grunt as her ass is pressed into the counter and Santana's hips bump into hers.

Santana is grinding against Rachel before she knows it and her breath is coming in short gasps against Rachel's mouth. Rachel is gasping and moaning on every change in pressure. Santana pulls her mouth away and starts pressing kisses down the column of Rachel's neck. Rachel's hands snake into her hair and actually tug back a little. It's the greatest feeling in the world and it took Brittany months to figure out how much Santana likes it. Rachel is a natural and she seems to instantly respond to the tiny shift in Santana's body as she tugs at her hair again.

"Oh god," Santana breaths into Rachel's neck. "Come upstairs?" she poses it as a question only because there had been so much talk about Rachel's 'virtue' that Santana doesn't want to do anything to break the girl.

Rachel's response is a physical one as she forces Santana's face up from her neck for a heated kiss to her lips. Santana is forced to breath heavily through her nose as Rachel refuses to relent her grip. Damn that girl and her incredible lung capacity. Santana tries to force down the lascivious thoughts about what she could get Rachel doing to take advantage of that lung capacity. Finally Rachel relents and leans back from Santana to nod. Santana is breathless and she has to think about what it was that Rachel was agreeing too. Right, to go upstairs, to Santana's bedroom to engage in...undisclosed activities.

Santana reaches for Rachel's hand and drags her out of the kitchen and up the stairs two at a time. She feels urgent and needy. That she can blame on the alcohol. She is never needy when completely sober. It's only with a few drinks under her belt that she can't manage to be completely self sufficient.

It takes approximately 5.6 seconds for Santana to get Rachel onto her bed and without her dress on. She feels it may be a personal best and strips her own dress off as a reward for herself. Rachel gasps slightly, glancing down at Santana's newly uncovered form. Santana devours Rachel's form with her eyes. While Santana is sporting matching black underwear Rachel is in a blue and white polkadot bra matching with dark blue bottoms sporting tiny gold music notes. Rachel allows the inspection without making any move to cover her near naked body. Santana is impressed but she sees a glimmer of worry in Rachel's eyes. She thinks back to the 'virtue' conversation and remembers that Rachel has barely let anyone round second base before.

"Are you okay?" she shocks herself with the question but doesn't withdraw it, just sits back on her knees watching Rachel catch her breath. Rachel sits up a little higher against the pillows, drawing her knees up a little.

"I'm, I'm fine. This is all just a little um fast. I mean, I've been aware of my divergent preferences for some time, I just never thought that I would be...you know," Santana raises one eyebrow and Rachel rolls her eyes as she continues, "You're Santana Lopez. The most desirable girl in school." She blushes again and Santana smiles at her sudden awkwardness.

"Yeah I'm Santana Lopez. And you're Rachel Berry. The Gleek that hooked both the star quarterback _and_ the most desirable _guy_ at McKinley, Noah Puckerman. You are an anomaly Rachel Berry. I'll tell you now that when we get back to school tomorrow I will be denying we ever did anything. I want to be honest with you right now because you deserve that. You deserve better than the way we treat you. Hell you deserve better than me right now. But I wont acknowledge you tomorrow because I, like every other person at school besides you am a coward. For right now though, I want you." she rolls her eyes at the phrase that she can't stop herself uttering next, "And I want your damn virtue."

Rachel giggles at that. Actually damn giggles and Santana melts a little. She leans forward and captures Rachel's lips again while holding her body away from the tiny brunettes. She sets a steady pace against Rachel's lips. She gradually starts to loosen up and eventually threads her hands back into Santana's hair. Santana lets her body fall gently against Rachel's and they both sigh at the contact. Their bodies align and Santana realises that she could stay like this all night. Just pressed against Rachel, loving the way that their mouths and tongues move together.

Rachel however has other plans. Santana feels the way that Rachel's hands move across her back. They slid across the bare flesh as though memorising every contour. A moment after Santana realised what she is doing, Rachel's hands find the clasp of Santana's bra and unsnap it. Her hands move across Santana's shoulders and shift the straps down her arms. Santana pulls her body away from Rachel's long enough to untangle herself and let Rachel fling the bra across the room. Santana chuckles lowly when she feels a tentative hand moving across the skin of her stomach. She pulls her mouth away from Rachel's just long enough to say that it's "okay," and Rachel's hand is suddenly on her breast.

The feeling is sensational as Rachel gently kneads her hand into her breast. When Rachel shifts her hand to swipe her thumb over her nipple, Santana can't help but cant her hips down into the shorter girl's. She longs to be free of all her underwear but she honestly has no idea if Rachel is on the same page as she is. She decides to work on rounding second and she winds her hands under Rachel so she can unclasp the polkadot Bra that is in the way of her exploring hands.

Without warning, Santana feels strong legs wrap around her thighs. She recognises the manoeuvre as one that Brittany pulls regularly. She suddenly remembers that Rachel is a dancer too, even if she isn't as accomplished as Brittany. The strong legs wrapped around her thighs are used for leverage and suddenly Santana finds herself on her back. Santana doesn't struggle, knowing that she needs to assess Rachel's willingness to this situation. She lies on her back, looking up at Rachel as she slides the straps down her arms and finally drops the bra beside the bed.

Santana keeps her hands by her sides even as Rachel's drift up to palm at Santana's breasts. Rachel's hips buck down when she leans forward again. Their breasts are pressed together and the sensation is incredible. They're lips crash together and it's all Santana can do to knead her hands into Rachel's back instead of pushing between them and into Rachel's underwear. Rachel's hands are running up and down Santana's sides. When the fingertips become light enough to tickle, Santana forces her hands under Rachel's underwear to grip her ass. She achieves the desired response when Rachel's fingers clasp tightly to her ribs.

Rachel draws back slightly and starts pressing kisses against Santana's jawline. In between kisses she starts murmuring out questions, "So if you aren't planning on acknowledging me in the morning," she sucks hard at Santana's neck, probably leaving a hickey. "Does that make this a one night stand?"

Santana tries hard to think coherently as Rachel continues to suck at her neck, "Yeah, I guess so. I mean, if that's what you want—" she lets out an involuntary gasp when Rachel moves to suck at her collarbone. "We can just play it by ear though."

This statement seems to give Rachel ideas and she moves back up to Santana's ear and sucks at her earlobe. Santana almost comes undone when Rachel whispers in her ear, "What if I'm not done with you after tonight?"

Her tone is playful and is Santana's undoing. She gasps into Rachel's neck, "We can negotiate Rachel, depending on what you are willing to—" Her words are completely cut off when Rachel's hand snakes its way between them and presses hard against the fabric covering her mound. "Oh my god Rachel!" She gasps.

She knows she is extremely wet and will be soaking into Rachel's hand given the pressure against her sex.

"You called me Rachel twice now," Rachel giggles into her ear. "If I knew that this was all it would take to get you using my real name I would have done this a long time ago."

Santana feels the pressure building in her body and she threads one hand into Rachel's hair, the other remaining firmly against the other girl's ass cheek.

Rachel continues whispering her taunting words into Santana's ear, "Do you think that Quinn would be as open to the experience as you?"

Santana can't help but picture Rachel with Quinn, their naked bodies pressed together. The way that Rachel's smooth tan skin and hair would contrast against Quinn's pale blonde. Her hips buck forward and she hopes that Rachel doesn't notice.

Of course Rachel does notice and her next words use Santana's bodily responses against her to build the pressure even further, "Do you think that she would be so ready to lie underneath me? If some guy got on top of her after a few wine coolers that I could do the same thing? Maybe I could get her to this point as well. Maybe once her breasts are pressed against mine that the rest will follow. Her soft, fair skin would mould against mine so easily and I could press my hand against her, that I could push my fingers past her underwear," Rachel pressed her lips against Santana's and pulls her fingers to the top of elastic of Santana's underwear playing along the edge of fabric and skin.

Santana is panting heavily and she moves the hand that is in Rachel's hair around to push against Rachel's breast instead. She swipes her thumb against the firm peak and Rachel gasps around her mouth.

She returns to her story, "If I get my fingers to Quinn's underwear I know what would happen. She would be soaked. Completely wanton and ready. Just like you are Santana."

"Rachel," Santana can't help the name that escapes her lips as Rachel's fingers finally slip passed her underwear and into her slick folds. She gasps out as warm digits press against her. Rachel's fingers move through her with no hesitation. Two fingers move down to circle her entrance before moving agonisingly slowly up to her clit. Santana convulses as two firm fingers press and circle against her bundle of nerves. Rachel's hands are persistent as she continues to circle and rub at her clit her other hand kneading at Santana's breast. Santana feels Rachel's thumb and forefinger gently tugging before she palms the side and flicks her thumb over her nipple. The intensity of sensations causes her whole body to roll up into Rachel's.

She's lost in the sensations for who knows how long when she registers a wetness against her thigh. Rachel has continued playing with her clit as she mercilessly skims the pad of her thumb across her nipple. She has also moved low enough down Santana's body to suck at the top of her breast and most importantly, to press her centre against Santana's thigh.

The realisation that Rachel is trying to pleasure herself in that way pulls Santana out of her erotic stupor. She grabs at Rachel's wrist and tugs her hand out of her underwear. She flips Rachel onto her back in a mirror of Rachel's earlier actions. The frown on Rachel's face is utterly adorable. She looks as though she won't be aloud to sing any Streisand this week. Santana presses at the crease between her brows to smooth it out. She kisses Rachel until she stops pouting.

Santana continues pressing gentle kisses against her until Rachel's hips are once again pushing up against her own. She starts to move gradually down Rachel's body kissing across one collar bone and down her sternum. She presses soft, open mouth kisses across her breasts and licks one nipple into her mouth. She gently skims her fingertips across the other and presses her stomach into Rachel's hot centre. The fabric is still in their way but Santana has every intention of removing the obstacle soon.

She leaves one hand skimming against Rachel's breast as she moves down to her stomach. She circles her navel before dipping her tongue in. Santana can feel an escalation in Rachel's breathing so she does it again, running her tongue against her belly button before dipping in. Rachel bucks up one more time but Santana is still moving down.

She runs her tongue down from Rachel's navel to the seam of her underwear. Rachel laces one hand into Santana's hair and tugs lightly. Santana convulses slightly at the sensation but continues pressing hot, wet kisses against Rachel's abdomen.

She can feel the muscles twitching under her lips and she looks at Rachel as she hooks both her thumbs into either side of her underwear, "Rachel? Are you sure?" Rachel nods desperately but it isn't enough. "Rach, look at me," Rachel's eye snap open. "Are you ready?" Santana states again clearly.

Rachel nods as she gasps out a breathy but firm "Yes, I'm ready Santana."

With the affirmation, Santana doesn't hesitate to pull the last item of clothing from Rachel's body. She follows the cotton down closely, past Rachel's knees and to her ankles where she flicks them past her feet and onto the floor. She looks up from her position at the foot of the bed to look at a very naked Rachel Berry.

Rachel is breathing heavily and staring down at Santana with deep lust and also another emotion. It's trust and Santana takes a deep breath before removing her own underwear and crawling back up the bed to lay beside her. They kiss again and Santana can feel that same trust pressed into her mouth. She remembers her first time with Brittany and the way they had fumbled together to find what felt good, what they needed from each other. Now that she was sharing that with someone again, she felt the pressure of experience in her chest. It was suddenly her responsibility to show Rachel what could happen with another person. She needed to show Rachel how good it could be.

She shifted against the mattress slowly until her body ran along the length of Rachel's. Their cores pressed together and they both gasped. Santana can feel the heat radiating from Rachel and she knows that it's time. She presses her mouth against Rachel's once, twice and then raises herself to look into her eyes. She runs her thumb against Rachel's cheek until the other girl opens her eyes. That trust is shining out at her again and she smiles down at Rachel before reclaiming her lips in a searing kiss. It's a promise and she feels Rachel relax and she moves one hand against her hip.

Santana presses one hand into Rachel's left breast, very gently rubbing her thumb over a tightened nipple. She continues kissing her as her left hand creeps over her stomach. She considers asking again if Rachel is sure but knows that it would be redundant. She already has her confirmation and she really just needs to forge past her own insecurities.

It's not like it feels wrong touching Rachel Berry in this way. Every word, every action has felt completely natural. Since Rachel startled her outside that Bottle shop everything has just felt so completely...right.

Finally, Santana's hand slides across Rachel's stomach and plunges down, down into the waiting heat. Rachel's whole body reacts to the intrusion. Her legs jerk up and her arms wrap around Santana's torso. Her body convulses upwards to trap Santana's hand in place and her face presses into Santana's neck and shoulder. Santana is so ready to plunge downwards, to enter Rachel and take whatever she has to offer. But she waits. She waits as Rachel unwinds herself slightly from her body to slowly starts moving her hands. With one hand against Rachel's breast and the other, slowly moving in small circles against her clit Santana can feel how ready and aroused Rachel is but she is still hesitant. She hasn't done anything like this since Brittany's and her first time together and it's vaguely nerve wracking.

Slowly, so very slowly, she slips her fingers down to circle Rachel's entrance. Santana knows that she will be expecting this since Rachel made the same movements against her not that long ago. She circles her entrance and then moves her fingers back up to her clit, circling it gently. She repeats this several more times and Rachel is canting against her making small sounds of frustration every time Santana circles her entrance and moves away. Santana knows that she can't keep teasing and the next time she rubs against Rachel's bundle of nerves she deliberately makes contact with Rachel's lips. She kisses firmly and deliberately until they're both gasping and then pushes her fingers back down and into Rachel.

She doesn't hesitate at any moment, certain that any hesitation would make any pain worse. Thankfully she meets little resistance before she is two knuckles deep inside of Rachel. Rachel grunts at the intrusion but makes no move to pull away and Santana continues her movements, pushing further until her fingers are completely swallowed.

She stills her hand, giving Rachel time to adjust, desperately hoping that she isn't causing the other girl too much pain. She feels Rachel squirm slightly and she takes it as a signal to move again. Very slowly, she moves her hand out of Rachel till only the first knuckle of her fingers are still inside. She pauses for just a moment before thrusting back inside again quickly. Rachel gives a moan and when Santana looks into her face she sees Rachel's eyes closed in pleasure.

Emboldened by what she sees Santana withdraws her fingers, thrusting in again quickly and with more pressure. There's no doubt this time that Rachel is enjoying what Santana is doing and she takes the opportunity to relax and bury herself more fully into the experience of fucking Rachel Berry.

She can feel Rachel's walls quivering with each thrust and she builds the pressure gradually until she is throwing her whole body into each thrust. She uses her own hips, pushing against the hand plunging into Rachel. She feels her own orgasm approaching even as Rachel squirms against her. The sounds of sex are thick in the air as Rachel grunts and moans against each thrust of Santana's fingers. Santana tries to keep her own pleasure silent but can't stop the small groans that escape her when she opens her eyes long enough to see the way Rachel's eyes are squeezed shut. She presses her lips against Rachel's hoping that it would be enough to disguise the groans that escape her every time her clit accidentally brushes against her hand. Rachel's eyes open on contact and she sees the frustrated look in Santana's eyes as she trusts against her.

There's little that Rachel wont do for Santana in this moment so she asks her without hesitation what it is she needs.

"Fingers. Inside." Santana moans, unable to keep the request behind her lips when she sees Rachel's ernest expression.

Santana keeps thrusting and she feels the urgent quiver of Rachel's walls around her fingers as she moves her thumb to rub against Rachel's clit.

Suddenly a new yet entirely familiar sensation overwhelms her. Rachel has somehow angled her hand in place and her fingers are circling Santana's entrance. On her very next thrust, Rachel presses them into Santana's waiting entrance.

The feeling is explosive and Santana reacts with a particularly violent jerk of her hips. The sudden movement forces both Santana's and Rachel's fingers deeper into the waiting heat and both girls yelp at the spike of pleasure.

Both sets of hips cant forward again and again as hands thrust forward and thumbs swipe irregularly across tightened nerves. Sweaty skin slides across sweaty skin as pleasure shivers across both girls' spines.

Santana screams out Rachel's name and vice versa as they both work each other down from earth shattering orgasms. Their hips rock gently against each other until finally their breathing slows down and they can entertain coherent thought.

Finally they both draw their hands away from their bodies and Santana slumps slightly to one side so she is resting on the sheets of her bed as much as on Rachel. Santana quickly moves her finger to her mouth and sucks the remnants of Rachel's come away from her fingers. Rachel watches with wrapped fascination and glances at her own hand. The one that was buried inside Santana is covered in her wet residue and she looks fascinated by the shimmering wetness on her fingers.

"You can wipe it on the sheets," Santana whispers into the dimly lit room.'

Rachel looks oddly affronted by the suggestion and quickly moves her fingers to her mouth. She licks up her index finger and Santana nearly loses what's left of her composure. Rachel sucks all of her fingers into her mouth as if to memorise the exact flavour of Santana. Santana growls at the sight and leans forward to kiss Rachel's lips as soon as she is finished with her fingers.

They lay sated and catching their breath for a few more minutes. Santana can't help but glance at Rachel every few moments. Unexpectedly she feels a laugh bubble up her throat. She claps a hand over her mouth but it's too late as the laugh echoes clearly through the quiet room.

"What's so funny?" Rachel asks, confused.

"I just fucked Rachel Berry," it's Lopez word vomit at its finest. Rachel is wearing a hurt expression so Santana tries to make it right. "No, I didn't mean it like that Rachel, I, this just isn't how I pictured my valentines day going you know."

Rachel's hurt expression slowly melted, "You called me Rachel again," Santana felt her cheeks blush. "Not that I expected you to go back to calling me Man Hands straight away or anything. I just. You know I heard what you said about not acknowledging this tomorrow at school. And I'm okay with that. Even if I would prefer to be celebrating the fact that I got to have sex with Santana Lopez. Possibly with some kind of parade or at least a flash mob of some description. Maybe with tiny flags." She smiled to show that she was joking.

Santana returns the smile as she site up on the mattress. "So you're okay then?" Rachel nods a yes. Santana is relieved, "Okay good cause I don't know if you know this about me but I'm not much for cuddling."

Rachel just laughs, "Oh please Lopez, you're a fluffy teddy bear and you know it. I've seen the way you are with a certain blonde cheerleader who shall remain nameless." Santana smiled shyly not bothering to argue.

She flashes back though to the moments when Rachel had been on top of her. "Speaking of blonde cheerleaders, _Berry_. Does Quinn Fabray usually feature in your dirty talk or did I get special treatment?"

Rachel tries to act casual as she pulls a pillow from behind her to cover her naked body. "Well I wouldn't know about usually because I have never felt the urge to talk in any of my previous...encounters. I just. I guess I was remembering what we had been talking about earlier. How you and Quinn are similar in your treatment of me whilst at school," she looks at Santana slyly. "I had no idea the mere mention of her name would cause such a reaction."

Santana rolls her eyes and moves off the bed to grab a Tshirt and a pair of shorts out of a draw. She puts them on and throws a set to Rachel as she answers, "It wasn't just Quinn you know. You kind of had your hand rubbing against me. Besides, it was the image you painted of the two of you together more than anything. You've got to admit it would be pretty hot," she states unabashedly. "The two of you getting naked together."

Rachel giggles as she pulls on the clothes offered to her, "Could you imagine if Quinn found out about this? She would have a heart attack."

"I don't know Rach, I think she would probably just be jealous." Rachel looks skeptical even as she grins at the nickname. "No really. Britt and I have this theory, well more an idea..." she trails off as Rachel gets off the bed. "Did you eat anything at Breadstix?" Rachel shakes her head. "Good cause I'm ordering chinese food."

She grabs her phone and waves for Rachel to follow her back downstairs and to the kitchen. Once there Santana pours herself and Rachel a fresh drink, both topped up with Coke. Santana doesn't feel the need to binge anymore tonight. She calls her favourite Chinese place that delivers late and places their order. Rachel waits patiently sipping at her drink, only grimacing slightly at the alcohol.

When Santana hangs up the phone Rachel puts down her drink to address Santana, "So, I know that we said we would play this by ear but...do you think we could maybe make plans to um...do this again?"

She looks so nervous and Santana can't help but maintain a thoughtful expression for a few moments longer than necessary. Finally she allows a smirk to pull up the corner of her lips. "Only if you promise to dirty talk in spanish next time."

Rachel laughs but nods in agreement. Santana hopes that she'll have the lady balls to at least be civil to Rachel at school tomorrow.

* * *

AN2: Please don't think that I believe Rachel would jump into someone's bed after just one drink. More like Berrytana would be totally hot and maybe Rachel would be open to Santana's advances? That's what I'm feel in anyway.


	2. Arm Warmers

AN: Okay, so this chapter jumps through moments a bit in the middle. That's because I wanted it to stay relatively canon to the episode it relates to. So it would be like a Kinsey 2 if zero were canon and six were AU. So welcome to chapter 2: It's Canon and only incidentally AU.

Also. I want to say here so that no one can accuse me of teasing ;) there are NO threesomes in this chapter.

Oh and translations are in italics. But hopefully you'll be able to work that out on your own.

* * *

Rachel likes to start her day with a certain routine. A structured day allows one to maintain the focus and drive required to nurture a talent such as hers. A strict diet and exercise regimen is the ground stone for all her days activities and cannot be neglected.

Unfortunately when one spends the night with Santana Lopez one can be forced to negotiate a new day's groundwork. When Rachel wakes on February 15th she is surprised to find that she is still tangled up in Santana's arms. Despite what Santana had said about her aversion to cuddling, they had fallen asleep together in Santana's bed with the feisty temptress wrapped around the young diva. Yes, they had been the worse for at least a quarter of a bottle of Jack Danials but that didn't change the fact that now Rachel would have to negotiate the terms of a morning-after embrace.

Rachel can feel the fuzz on her teeth and she has no doubt that her morning breath must be quite spectacular considering she had been forced to neglect her bedtime ritual just as she would no doubt have to neglect her morning one. She lies awake for a few moments listening to Santana's steady breathing. There is no clock on the bedside table she is facing and the window's curtains are drawn, obscuring the potentially bright sky from view. She considers her options. If she wakes Santana up it could be unbelievably awkward. Rachel can remember no mention of whether or not Santana is a morning person. It is also unclear whether Santana had planned on returning Rachel to her home or if Rachel was supposed to find her own way. How Rachel had allowed herself to neglect these important details she doesn't know.

Actually she does know. The reason she had so forgotten every natural impulse to organise and plan her day is currently spooning into her back. The reason had taken Rachel's 'virtue'—the word, as horribly cliche as it was is now stuck in her head—in this very bed only hours before. Santana Lopez, for some unknown reason had expressed a sudden impulse to 'have' Rachel and Rachel had been only too willing to submit. She couldn't deny that Santana had entered her idle fantasies from time to time. She couldn't deny the certain and observable fact that Santana was incredibly beautiful. What she could deny was that she had any expectation of Santana feeling anything for her.

Rachel searches her memory to find any indication that Santana had had any interest in her at all before last night. She couldn't think of a single instance. Of course there probably wasn't a single instance where Rachel had expressed any noticeable interest in Santana either. Animosity and even disinterest had been the norm for the term of their knowing each other.

Last night had been completely anomalous. Out of the blue and completely unexpected. Twenty four hours ago Rachel had woken up for her morning routine with a positive outlook. She entered each day hoping for the best, knowing that positivity was what drives a person forward, onwards and upwards. It hadn't occurred to her for even an instant that she would end up in bed with someone. It would have seemed absurd for Rachel to believe that she would lose her virginity last night. Let alone that she would end up losing it to Santana Lopez of all people.

When Rachel would contemplate her first time she had always done so in the abstract. An event marked down for some time in the future. It was unlikely that she would remain a virgin 'til she was twenty-five. That was just what she told her boyfriends so they wouldn't have expectations of her. She had imagined maybe Finn in Senior year or maybe even her first college boyfriend or girlfriend. She had imagined her first time involving flickering lights, romantic music and most importantly, someone she loved.

That is the hardest thing to consolidate with herself about last night. She knows that she doesn't like Santana. At worst one could say that she hates the Latina for everything she and Quinn had subjected her to since Freshman year. She knows that hatred isn't an emotion she could attach to either girls but even at best, all Rachel could say is that she feels a certain camaraderie(possibly friendship) based on their common love of performance. This lack of emotional attachment to Santana Lopez had seemed insignificant last night. This morning, it feels like a substantial oversight.

Rachel is pondering this moral dilemma when she feels Santana stirring behind her. Rachel wonders if she is feeling a similar tangle of emotions. Rachel truly hopes that Santana doesn't regret the nights events. Of all the emotions fighting for space in Rachel's chest, regret is surprisingly not one of them. Sure she had consumed at least two and a half standard servings of alcohol, and had susequently slept with a person she didn't love under the influence of alcohol. She was the definition of a teen statistic and yet she felt no regrets. She had enjoyed the experience immensely and was glad she had placed her trust in Santana.

When Santana had made her physical interest explicit over those first few drinks Rachel had felt the surge of lust one would expect in being propositioned by a desirable individual. There was that physical craving Santana had described but there was also something else. When Santana had pressed her against the king size bed and removed her own clothing, laying herself bare, Rachel had felt a sure trust well up inside her. Despite everything that had happened between them, despite all the name calling and even the slushies, Rachel had felt in that moment that she could _trust _Santana. The was the other girl had caressed her skin and said her name—her given name—with such tenderness only solidified the feeling.

For all that Rachel had leapt willingly to sleeping in Santana's arms following their pleasant dinner and drinks the night before, she now felt a little lost as to what to do. She feels Santana's arms stiffen slightly so she knows that the other girl is awake. Rachel briefly considers feigning sleep to see what Santana's reaction will be first but then realises that would be the cowards way out. Rachel sternly reminds herself that she is no coward. A coward would never have gotten into this situation in the first place. A coward would never have approached Santana outside that Liquor Store and a coward most certainly would not have gotten into her car.

Rachel turns in Santana's arms so she is facing her. Santana's eyes are closed tightly, as though she had opened them briefly but had been blinded by a bright light. Rachel can only assume that she had slammed her eyes shut after finding Rachel Berry in her bed and in her arms.

Rachel reminds herself once more that she is no coward and addresses Santana firmly. Or at least she tries to. Her voice is still croaky with sleep. "Santana," she croaks and then clears her throat, saying her name more clearly the second time. "I know you're awake."

Santana squeezes her eyes tighter, "I'm not," she grumbles. "You're dreaming that I'm awake and I'm dreaming that Rachel Berry is in my bed. When I wake up you'll be gone and last night will be a dream."

Rachel smirks a little, "Do I often feature in your dreams Santana? Really, I had no idea."

Santana's eyes remain closed but Rachel can see the corners of her lips starting to twitch.

Rachel is struck with an idea, "I can always serenade you in Spanish if you need some kind of wakeup song."

Santana cracks a smile but keeps her eyes closed, "Please don't Berry, there's only so much a girl can take first thing in the morning."

Rachel tilts her head up just enough to see past Santana and spots the glowing numerals of an alarm clock. They still had a few hours before school. "But if you don't wake up and get ready for school now we'll miss maths and since I've already missed English and homeroom people may get suspicious about our joint absences. Who knows what kind of rumors may go—"

Rachel is cut off by Santana snapping her eyes awake and spinning her head around to stare at the alarm clock behind her. Rachel is seriously concerned that she may have just strained her neck muscles in the action.

Santana breathes a sigh of relief and turns back to Rachel, "Fucking hell Berry, that's not even funny."

"It was a little funny," she grins.

"Not even. You might get a little tickle at the prospect of everyone finding out about this but I am so not up for that."

Rachel's smile diminishes a little but she remains content with the feel of Santana's arms still draped gently around her. "Your reputation is safe, I assure you. The prospect of sharing personal details of my sex life with the general population of McKinley does not—despite what you may think—interest me. I'm quite content for our little," she searches for that appropriate phrasing. "Tryst to remain between the two of us."

Santana rolls her eyes, "Are you even capable of talking like a normal human being? Or is it like, not in you programming?"

"Are you calling me a robot Santana?"

"Maybe. I mean it would make a kind of sense. Superhuman voice, superhuman tolerance for the amorous advances of bumbling giants," her eyes glimmer as she continues her teasing. "Oh and the clothes which could only have been devised by some kind of mad scientist with the fetishistic tendencies of a Japanese business man. It all makes sense now. How could I have been so blind."

Rachel pushes at the other girl's shoulder and Santana's hand drops from Rachel's shoulder to her waste. Rachel is exceedingly comfortable as she continues their banter, "So last night it was columbian drug lords and now it's Japanese business men. How do you keep track of all your Rachel Berry fantasies?" she wears a feigned expression of shock.

"Oh please, I can assure you that your pocket sized, cyborg self has never entered into _any_ of my fantasies."

Rachel ignores the new jab at her stature, "Cyborg Santana? Now I know you were somewhat inebriated last night but I also know that you could _feel_ exactly how fleshly human I am," she finished with a smirk of her own.

Santana tries to maintain something of a glare but can't seem to stop the smirk and eventual smile that lights up her face. Rachel smiles back at the reminder of just how beautiful Santana Lopez can be. Santana laughs heartily and shakes her head.

Rachel leans back slightly, "What's so funny."

"Oh nothing. Just Rachel Berry in my bed."

It's Rachel's turn to roll her eyes this time, "Please Santana, need I remind you that you came onto me last night?" she sits up, finally sliding out of Santana's arms. Santana frowns a little. "I understand that what happened last night was both unexpected and unprecedented or at least it was from my perspective. But I would appreciate it if you would stop finding this whole thing so damn amusing. My ego can really only take so much."

Rachel is breathing hard. All of the teasing she can deal with. The witty back and forth of playful jabs is easy. But she really can't handle Santana laughing at her, not after what they did last night. She stands up from the bed and looks for her dress which she knows was flung somewhere on the floor. The bed shifts slightly and Rachel can hear Santana getting out from under the blankets. She half expects her to leave the room but instead she approaches Rachel and dips down to force Rachel's eyes to hers.

"Come on Munchkin, I didn't mean to laugh at you. It's just like you said. Last night was totally unexpected. And this morning just as much. Do you think I let Puck sleep over?" Rachel didn't know the answer to that but Santana answered for her. "No freakin way. He's well worth a tumble but I do _not_ want to be waking up next to him."

Rachel feels her heart lighten slightly but can't help her next question, "What about Finn?" she asks hesitantly.

Santana obviously fights to keep a laugh inside at the question but can't keep an amused wobble out of her voice, "Finnocence? No, see he was," a flash of something Rachel didn't understand crossed Santana's features as she continued. "He was nothing. I felt nothing because it meant nothing. I made him buy me a cheeseburger and then I went home." she rolled her eyes at herself before continuing. "Okay that's a lie, I crawled in through Britt's window and slept in her bed instead. I didn't want to wake up next to that blubberous man child. Or any guy for that matter." Santana clamps her mouth shut and her eyes shimmer slightly with the apparent weight of her confession.

Rachel's sixth sense tells her that was something she had never told anyone before, "You slept with Brittany instead?" Santana nods. "So you've only ever _slept_ with Britttany...and with...with me?" Santana hesitates but then nods again, firmly.

A huge smile spreads across Rachel's face and she has to fight hard to not wrap her arms around Santana in a hug. She suddenly doesn't know what to do with her arms so she simply swings them at her side.

Santana shakes her head slightly and colour floods her cheeks, "Yeah, well just don't go telling anyone that or I'll kick your ass."

Rachel tries to look serious as she says "Okay," but she can't keep the grin from her face.

"Let's get some breakfast okay, Berry. Like I said, there's only so much a girl can take this early in the morning. And I needs me a caffein hit."

Rachel follows her down stairs again and takes the chance to look around the house which had been all but obscured in the dark last night. It is truly a beautiful home. She makes a mental reminder to say as much to Mrs Lopez. If she ever gets to meet her. She still has no real idea if she will have another opportunity to see the inside this house. Santana had agreed to the idea of having more nights together in the future. But discussing such things while still indulging in the glow of post coital bliss is _very_ different from discussing them in the hard light of day.

Santana gestures for Rachel to take one of the chairs lined up against the high bench in the kitchen and makes her way to the coffee maker set up in one corner. It looks extremely complicated but it doesn't take long for the delicious smell of coffee to permeate the kitchen. They remain silent until Santana places a coffee in front of Rachel who only raises an eyebrow when Santana pulls both a Soy milk and a creamer from the fridge.

Santana sees the look, "Yes, I know you're vegan. It's not exactly that hard to remember after Jesse StDouchbag made an omelette on your head."

Rachel shuddered at the memory and gladly accepted the soy milk, stirring it into her coffee. Her first sip is tentative but she is pleasantly surprised to find that it's quite delicious and already sweetened.

Rachel watches as Santana begins pulling ingredients from the cupboard, "So what's for breakfast?" she was honestly surprised she was getting anything more than a grumbled greeting and an apple. Hell, Rachel wouldn't have been surprised if Santana had just kicked her out of bed and ordered her to make her own way home. Coffee and a prepared breakfast is something she can definitely appreciate.

Santana backs out of the fridge with her arms full of what looks like eggs, spinach, mushrooms, tomatoes, canola spread and rye bread. "Well I'm having an omelet but I was thinking if you like mushrooms and anything else I have right here I could just toss it together in a pan til it resembles something a human being—or at least the residents of Munchkin Land—would consider consuming."

"I like all of those things, although" she hesitates before continuing. "I didn't know what to expect when I woke up this morning and I certainly didn't expect such a lovely breakfast.

"Well I couldn't just throw you out on your ass Berry."

Rachel resists the urge to ask her why not. Even despite the care Santana had shown her last night Rachel was having difficulty consolidating the last two and a half years of mistreatment with this kind and caring Santana. Even with all the short jokes still being thrown in.

Rachel settles with a slightly less antagonistic tone as she watches Santana heat up two pans with a little canola oil. "So soy milk and rye bread?"

"Er yeah. I try to avoid eating anything without at least a single portion of something dead or dead adjacent in it but my mum is kinda allergic to lots of stuff. She can't have gluten or dairy. There's a few other things but they're the big two and it just so happens that the crap she eats tends to be vegan friendly too."

"Dead or dead adjacent?" Rachel shudders with a frown on her face.

Santana shrugs with a smirk and one eyebrow raised, "I could never eat anything solid in front of Coach Sylvester so breakfast became kind of a big meal for me. Sometimes I'll even fry up a steak on, like a Sunday morning."

Rachel imitates a gagging motion as she faux vomits over the side of her chair.

"Whatever Hobbit. You can keep your leafy greens and share them with all of your rabbit friends."

Rachel laughs, "Need I remind you that I am barely a few inches shorter than you?"

"Whatever." Santana states with as much attitude as she can muster as she scrambles eggs in a bowl.

"Oh and so much eloquence this morning. I knew your economy of language could be shared with individuals beyond the school's faculty."

Santana throws her a glare as she grabs a lump of cheese from the fridge to grate into her omelet. Rachel takes it upon herself to pull the knife and bread board towards her so she can start chopping up the mushrooms, tomatoes and spinach.

Rachel pushes the chopped up ingredients back towards Santana who slides half into one pan and the other half into her omelet mixture.

When Santana has pours her omelet into the other pan and adjusts the heat Rachel attempts to continue their easy conversation, "So this is nice?" It's half a question because she just can't seem to get a clear read on the other girl. Santana just shrugs as she pulls out two plates and two clean glasses. Rachel continues, "It will be something of a shame when we get back to school and we need to continue the charade of animosity."

Santana whips her attention back to Rachel, "Look, just because I didn't just throw you out on my doorstep this morning does _not_ mean that we're suddenly going to become bosom buddies or whatever. We're going to eat breakfast, I'll drop you off at your house and we'll go back to ignoring each other okay?"

Rachel nods a little dejectedly. She was anticipating this, "Although you have to admit, we rarely spent a lot of time 'ignoring' each other in the past did we? Considering our positions at opposite ends of the social chain we should never really have even crossed each other's paths and yet we've been in each other's lives for a long time. Even before you joined Glee."

Santana shrugs, "Only cause Quinn's had a big hardon for torturing you since like the second day of Freshman year and she—" Santana cuts herself off and with the way her back stiffens Rachel can only assume that Santana has said something she hadn't meant to.

Rachel has already used up her quota for _not_ saying things this morning so she can't help but ask, "So you specifically targeted me because of Quinn?" no that doesn't sound right. "But only because she thought, or knew that I was after Finn." But that isn't right either because none of that happened until Sophomore year and the slushies and name calling happened very early on in Freshman year just like Santana said. "So Quinn targeted me specifically from day one. Why?"

Santana busies herself at the stove and refuses to meet Rachel's eye, "I don't know do I? Probably the stuff you said last night. About emotional walls or whatever. Look I shouldn't have said anything and I quite frankly don't have any inclination to discuss it with you Treasure—" again, Santana cuts herself off.

Rachel bites her lip to stop herself tearing up at Santana almost calling her Treasure Trail again. She tells herself that it's just word association brought up by talking about their common past. Not any indication of their current...relationship. Whatever this is between them now they won't be slipping into their old patterns. Rachel promises herself that.

Santana pushes two slices of bread into the toaster and pours them both an orange juice. She hands the glass to Rachel like it's a peace offering, "Come on Berry. How about I promise to not _personally _slushie you any more."

Rachel sighs as she accepts the glass, "You haven't personally slushied me in a very long time Santana."

"Well then it'll be a pretty easy promise for me to keep won't it. Look don't look so freakin distressed." She pauses before continuing, "Please? I'm no good at this shit okay? I told you last night that nothing will change at school and I know you know the reasons why."

Rachel nods. Yes she had accepted that nothing will change at school. She just hadn't anticipated Santana being so friendly to her this morning. It had thrown her is all but that is no reason to get overly emotional about the whole thing. Who is she kidding, she's always overly emotional.

She makes a determined effort to suck it up and puts on her show face, "You're right of course Santana. I appreciate your promise not to slushie me."

Santana looks relieved at the easy close to the conversation and she tosses the newly browned toast onto the two plates and dishes out the omelet and veggies. She hands Rachel her plate and a set of cutlery before rounding the bench to take a seat next to Rachel. "Eat up Short Stack so I can drop you off with your guild leader and you can prepare for your day with the usual sing along or witch burning. Whatever it is that munchkins do to start their day."

Rachel laughs and hums the first few bars of _Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead_ around a mouthful of mushrooms.

They spend the rest of breakfast chatting amiably about glee and cheerios. Rachel insists on cleaning up the dishes from breakfast and from their meal the night before claiming that it's her turn since Santana had prepared the food. Santana eventually acquiesces and goes to shower and get herself ready for school.

Rachel takes the opportunity while she waits to get changed back into her own clothes and she waits for Santana on her bed playing angry birds on her phone. Damn those little green bastards and their unbeatable architecture. Santana scoffs when she hears the sounds of fluffy cartoon birds being shot through cartoon bricks. Rachel rolls her eyes and immediately picks up Santana's phone to confirm the presence and participation in said same game.

Santana makes a lunge for her phone but isn't quick enough to stop Rachel unlocking it and seeing the little Angry Birds icon on her home screen. The home screen which includes a photo of Santana arm in arm with Brittany, both wearing their cheerios uniforms. Rachel thinks it's the sweetest thing ever but Santana scowls darkly at her.

Rachel raises her hands in mock defeat as Santana pushes her phone into her back pocket and grabs her bag and keys from beside the door.

* * *

Santana drops Rachel off at her front door with a smile. She waits, parked on the curb until Rachel has her front door unlocked and open. She waves Santana away and closes the door, pressing her pack to it once it's clicked into place. She can't fight the grin that spreads across her features as she thinks about her night and morning with Santana. It had been perfect. The way they joked back and forth and even the soft insults they'd exchanged were fun. The sex had been...better than Rachel could have imagined her first time being. There had been a few awkward moments but nothing that could detract from the overall amazingness of her experience.

She pushes away from the door, knowing that she only had a short amount of time to get herself ready for school. She can hear her dad in the kitchen making coffee and she calls out a good morning, saying she's going for a shower before heading upstairs at an excited gallop.

She sings random songs as she gets ready for school, unable to stick to a single song or even genre. The happy buzz she's feeling sticking with her right through to when she reaches the kitchen where her father is sitting and reading the paper. Rachel's Dad works in an office which operates from 10am–7pm because of the nature of the work they do. The eternal upside of these hours is that Rachel nearly always has a ride to school.

Leroy looks up from his newspaper when Rachel dances into the kitchen. She's still singing and smiling happily. Leroy glances back down at his paper once more before putting it down altogether.

"Can I get you a coffee sweet pea?" he asks.

Rachel shakes her head, "No, Santana made me a coffee before we left. She made breakfast too so I'm ready to go whenever you are."

Leroy smiles at her indulgently, "So you had a good time then."

Rachel smiles, "The best." She wants to elaborate but doesn't know how, considering she can't really share the details of most of her evening with either of her fathers.

Rachel had honestly been a little surprised that she had been allowed to stay out on a school night at all. She knows that if she had said she was staying the night at Finn's house there would have been an automatic refusal and quite probably an extremely awkward lecture on premarital sex. The text she had sent the night before had been specific in mentioning that she was spending the night a a _girl's_ house. She felt only mildly guilty about the omissions implicit in her sexuality. If her father's were aware of her bicuriosity she imagines they probably would have been less obliging.

Leroy is still looking at her as though waiting for some kind of expansion on the topic of her evening. When Rachel is clearly not going to be forthcoming he opens with more questions. "So is this, eer, Samantha a new friend then," he asks.

Rachel shakes her head, "It's Santana and sortof. We've been in Glee together since early last year. You might remember her. She sang the solo at Regionals this year."

Leroy's eyes light up in recognition, "Ah the fiery Latina?" he questions.

Rachel giggles at the description, "I'm sure she wouldn't object to that identifier. But to answer your question more fully, Santana and I have only been exploring a possible friendship more...recently."

"Ah. And she dropped you off this morning?"

Rachel nods again, "Yes, I was pleasantly surprised to discover she is a very...gracious hostess." Rachel can't help the blush that floods her cheeks and she realises that she needs to cut this conversation short if she has any hope of keeping the night's events from her Dad. She makes a show of looking at the time on the microwave, "Well look at the time. I really do need to get to school now if I'm going to make it to home room."

Leroy wears something of a puzzled expression but leaves her odd behavior uncommented. Sometimes Rachel really wishes she were less of a drama queen. All of her emotions are being constantly paraded for everyone to see. She realises that she will need to keep her school based interactions with Santana to a minimum if she has any chance of keeping her emotions to herself.

Leroy scoops the car keys off the kitchen bench and moves towards the front door. Rachel grabs her school bag, double checking the day's supplies and racing towards the car excitedly. She knows that she can't talk or interact with Santana at school but that doesn't mean she can't be excited about _seeing _her again.

* * *

Rachel is at school for approximately 8 minutes when she realises that nothing, and that means _nothing_ has been changed by the events of last night and this morning.

She had successfully resisted the urge to _accidentally_ bump into Santana at her locker. She'd heard absolutely everything Santana said about nothing at school changing and she was perfectly amenable to that. What she wasn't prepared for and what she had forgotten to anticipate was Quinn Fabray. Rachel had thought that with all of the Sam, Finn love triangle drama that Quinn was involved in she would forget that Rachel even existed. Somehow though, even with all the drama Quinn found the time to go out of her way to torture her. And of course Quinn manages to enlist Brittany and Santana into her firing squad. Rachel has no honest idea how Quinn gets the two girls flanking her again but she does. And there _she_ is.

It's a small comfort to Rachel that Santana looks extremely disconcerted by the situation. When Quinn stalks past her locker with that glare permanently etched into her elegant features Rachel tries not to flinch. When Quinn slings several hash words her way and Santana says nothing, it's all Rachel can do not to cry. She barely even notices that Brittany is wearing her leg warmers on her arms.

* * *

Rachel is careful to avoid and generally ignore Santana. She arrives to class late just so she can take a seat on the opposite end of the room from her. She hurries to arrive at Glee early and sits in the back row so that Santana can pick a seat away from her. The only downside to all of this avoidance of course is that she is perpetually hyper aware of where Santana is at any given time. Rachel has Santana's timetable memorized. She also has Brittany's memorized just because she knows that Santana is likely to be wherever Brittany is in between classes.

Overall it's exhausting and Rachel really doesn't know how to handle any of it. Knowing that she already 'had' Santana does nothing to take any 'edge' away from anything. Rachel is quite sure that she was less obsessive in her crushing on Finn in Sophomore yeah. Not that she is crushing on Santana. No, it is just important for her to maintain a professional distance from her.

What helps is that the week provides several convenient distractions. The boys getting their Bieber on—as Santana would put it—is one such distraction. Brittany's obvious attempts to derail her comeback is another. Even Quinn's new found love/lust for Sam is at least mildly entertaining as Finn struggles to retain Quinn's interest. Overall it is a week of trials and tribulations.

* * *

The day of the Diva-off is a high point in the week. Singing with mercedes is always a challenge in asserting her Diva status and Rachel is always up for a challenge. Rachel loves the feeling of laying her Diva out there and can't help but throw a smirk or two in Santana's direction. Even if the Latina is wearing leg warmers on her arms like the rest of the girls at Mckinley.

When she and Mercedes stop singing and the rest of the lesson continues, Rachel manages to forget herself, accidentally sitting between Santana and Brittany. She honestly has no idea how it happens but assumes that it has something to do with Coach Sylvester's destabilizing presence.

Rachel glares down at the leg warmers on Santana's arms and tries to comfort herself with the knowledge that by tomorrow Brittany's take on the Rachel Berry look will be taking McKinley by storm.

* * *

The next day is surely a test on Rachel's patience. She approaches Quinn and Santana in the hallway despite her better judgment. She knows that they are discussing the Rachel Berry look that they themselves are now sporting and simply can't resist the temptation. Besides, Tina joins in their conversation and she has always been relatively supportive of all thing Rachel Berry _and _of alternative genres in attire.

When all three girls shoot Rachel down, it's all she can do not to cry. Quinn she expects, but the look of disdain on Santana's _and _Tina's faces hurt. Rachel stares at Santana for a moment, trying to see something like remorse or at least sympathy in her face. Theres's nothing but a glimmer of humor that Rachel can't account for.

* * *

Glee Club that afternoon is...a surprise. Rachel knew that Zises would be singing and she could have laid money on the odds that the song would be vaguely inappropriate. Puck had been a contributory to the performance after all. What she didn't expect was that Santana would sit next to her. She had to assume that it was an accident. Much like when she herself had sat next to Santana the previous day. That didn't stop Rachel imagining all sort of scenarios where she and Santana could accidentally end up making out.

Sam, Quinn and Brittany are sitting directly in front of her. With Mercedes and Santana occupying the back row of the risers with her Rachel feels for a second as though she is sitting in one of those nazi propaganda films she saw in history class. She and the two girls next to her representing the dark skinned, dark haired menace that stalks the arian nation. She shakes that though as she sees an opportunity to play against Santana's jealousies. Rachel is after all an actress. She knows how to play to an audience, to convince them of certain affections and desires.

Once Brittany resumes her seat following Lauren's song Rachel leans forward and taps her on the shoulder.

"I liked your participation in that number, Brittany." she whispers into her ear.

"Well that's cause it was damn hot," she replies back with a ghetto gesture.

Rachel can feel Santana boring a hole into the back of her head with her gaze and she can't keep the smirk from her face when she continues, "It was oddly gratifying to see my outfit attached to such a routine even if I know that no one will be crediting me for their outfit choices." she can't help the flirtatious flick of hair that accompanies the glance she throws over one shoulder.

Brittany is looking at her in complete confusion but Rachel doesn't care because she knows that Santana can't see anything of Brittany but the back of her head. Brittany twists just enough so she can stare at Rachel, "I thought we covered this Rachel. You aren;t going to be any kind of fashion icon. In fact, everything you do is pretty much going to have people doing the exact opposite." her voice is low and conspiratorial. Rachel is glad that Brittany isn't the type to publicly chastise anyone.

"Yes we did Brittany, I just wanted to congratulate you on your newly elevated status as a teen fashion icon. " Rachel takes this opportunity to place one hand on Brittany's shoulder and laughs as though they just shared a great joke. She flicks her eyes discreetly to Santana who looks distinctly disgruntled. Rachel knows that Santana can hear nothing of her interaction with Brittany so she continues.

Rachel leans forward completely unnecessarily to whisper the query into Brittany's ear, "Do you think there is any chance that you could maybe sport any other items of my wardrobe Brittany?"

Brittany laughs, just as Rachel expects her too, "I don't think so Rachel. As much as I appreciate the chance to spend your pocket money on—" she cuts herself off as though she's said too much before continuing, "As much as I'm glad of the chance to feed my uncle's nearly starving goat Rachel, I don't think I'll be wearing any more of your clothes."

Rachel had expected this. Really, she'd had enough of Brittany wearing her clothes without any of the credit being shared her way. The point was to get Santana thinking that she and Brittany were engaged in a decidedly flirtatious conversation. Rachel chances a glance at Santana and sees her looking less than pleased with Rachel and Brittany's interaction. Rachel knows that her goal has been accomplished and she leans back in her chair, ready to participate in whatever Mr Schuester is claiming as a lesson plan these days.

* * *

When Friday afternoon arrives, Rachel is decidedly over her week. Every single performance for the 'Anthem' assignment had been well below par and her original song idea had been shot down without any consideration. Sure Finn had approached her after class to tell her that her ideas were worth considering but really Finn's opinion was worth about as much as the keytar player's at that point.

What Rachel really wants, what she had wanted all week was validation from one Santana Lopez. She had tried to ignore it. She had wanted nothing else but to feel some kind of urge which directed her away from the Latina. Unfortunately not a thing managed to stick. Not even Santana's sudden interest in Sam had managed to curb Rachel's need for Santana's approval.

Rachel loiters in the hallway that contains Santana's locker for 5 long minutes before she finally submits to her baser urges and approaches her.

"Santana," she begins hesitantly.

Santana slams her locker with much more gusto than necessary, "What do you want Hobbit?" Santana is glancing around as though checking for any indication that someone might be listening to the exchange.

Rachel can't help but glance around as well before lowering her voice to whisper conspiratorially into Santana's ear, "I was wondering if maybe we could discuss," she fights the gulp that threatens to slide down her throat. "If we could discuss a repetition of our valentine's activities," she finishes with a quick glance around at the now empty hallway.

Santana does another less than subtle sweep of the hallway with her eyes before settling her gaze on Rachel.

"It's not something that I haven't considered," she says obliquely.

Rachel mulls over the double negative before registering what Santana means, "So you would be open to another romantic interlude?" she says with hope sparkling from every pore.

Santana rolls her eyes, "Look Berry, I'm not up for any kind of relationship or whatever but I am open to another...interlude as you so ridiculously put it."

Rachel resists the temptation to bounce up and down in excitement. That small confirmation is all that she has been hoping for all week. "So I can meet you at your place tonight at say, six o'clock?" she asks with a certain amount of trepidation.

Santana looks like she is in deep contemplation and Rachel shifts her weight subtly just in case she needs to run away. Finally Santana's face clears and Rachel can let out the breath she's been holding.

"Okay," Santana finally states. Rachel's heart squeezes tightly but then skips a beat when Santana's smile transitions into a smirk. "But you have to wear those jeans."

Rachel has no idea what Santana could mean, "What jeans? I don't see why you would feel the need to dictate my attire since you've obviously been enjoying my fashion sense all week even if it was through Brittany's particular—"

Santana presses one finger onto Rachel's lips forcing her into silence, "The jeans you were wearing for the My Chemical Romance number Berry. This ridiculous sexy librarian fad is so last week."

"But it's still Friday—"

"Please stop talking."

Rachel allows the brief dismissal and smiles at Santana, "So I'll see you at 6pm then."

Santana rolls her eyes but confirms the time anyway. "I'll see you at seven Berry. And not a moment sooner," she says with a finger pointed at her chest.

Rachel nods emphatically, clutching her books more securely to her front. At this point she would agree to anything Santana suggests.

When Santana waves her hand to intimate a dismissal Rachel leaves quickly, not wanting to give Santana the chance to change her mind.

* * *

Rachel stands outside of Santana's door at three minutes past seven o'clock with her hand suspended over the knocker. She had heard that it is considered 'lame' for teenagers to arrive on time to each other's houses. Rachel can't understand how anyone would _prefer_ to be known as tardy. The urge to knock the instant the second hand indicated the appropriate time on her watch was extremely strong.

She manages a whole five minutes before finally flicking up the silver knocker to tap it against the door four times. One tap for each syllable of her name. Ra-chel-Ber-ry. She can hear someone moving on the other side and she smooths her palms across the top of the jeans she's wearing as per Santana's request. It remains something of a mystery why she needed to be wearing these jeans in particular. She can only suppose that they had been something of a favorite for Santana.

Rachel smiles broadly when Santana opens the door, proffering forward the vodka she had brought for the evening.

Santana wears a scowl on her face as she surveys the pleasantly green shaded bottle of alcohol between them, "What the hell is that?"

Rachel's smile falters for just a moment before snapping back into place. She is confident that vodka is an appropriate beverage for people their age(not legally but that is a moot point here). There had even been vodka in the bag right along side Santana's Jack Daniels the week before. "It's vodka," she starts uncertainly. "Zubrowka vodka in fact. It's based on grass instead of wheat or potatoes which makes it a more suitable choice considering the strict diet that was required by your participation in Cheerios."

Rachel had researched her purchase thoroughly before giving the money and a small bribe to Noah. It had actually taken quite some quick, persuasive talking to prevent Puck from following Rachel all the way to Santana's house. He had been very suspicious of Rachel's need for Vodka. The request coupled with Santana's refusal to participate in his Friday night party had sparked many suspicions in the boy. Rachel had eventually managed to convince him that the vodka had been for her participation in a familial bonding exercise with 'cousins' from her Dad's side of the family.

Rachel pulls the bottle back towards her uncertainly and Santana's scowl remains firmly in place.

Rachel is about to ask what is wrong with her but is interrupted by a familiar voice coming from the kitchen, "Santana we aren't even close to finished here. Just tell who ever it is to come back another—" Rachel can't help the gasp that escapes her as Quinn Fabray walks determinedly towards the doorway. Quinn cuts off mid sentence when she spots who is on the other side of the door. "What the hell Santana?" Quinn's gaze flicks back and forth between Rachel and Santana as Santana slaps a palm to her forehead.

"Berry," Santana starts, "Why don't you come on in. Quinn here was just listing my many faults as a harlot, boyfriend stealing skank with no class. Isn't that right Quinnie?" She turns back to Quinn, "Berry is here to drink with me. Take that however the fuck you want Fabray. If you want to keep abusing me for _your_ breakup with Sam—which was fucking inevitable given your serial cheating habits, by the way—then you can leave. If you would like to get drunk on some—" Santana finally takes the bottle from Rachel's grasp as she guides the other girl inside and closes the door, "Bison Grass Vodka, then you can stay. I have Diet coke or orange juice to mix."

Rachel, glances at Quinn unsurely, careful not to lock eyes with her. Quinn is still looking pissed and Rachel feels no urge to spend her Friday night being harangued by Quinn Fabray. Santana seems to share Rachel's feelings. Not surprising since they had meant to occupy their Friday night with several hours of sexual experimentation.

Quinn stares between Rachel and Santana, "What the hell? When did you two become besties? I thought you two hated each other."

Rachel glances at Santana who seems to have no explanation prepared despite the fact that Quinn had been, for an indeterminate amount of time at _her_ house. Rachel clears her throat to buy a few more moments to collect her thoughts, "Well Quinn, if you must know, Santana and I formed something of a...bond valentines day night." Rachel can see Santana's eyes getting huge as she tries to express...something which Rachel assumes is some kind of negative sentiment. "We consumed a considerable number of alcoholic beverages after leaving Breadstix and passed out on opposite ends of the couch after several hours of commiserating over each other's relationship woes."

Santana looks like she could kiss Rachel for her easy creativity. Rachel fights the smug expression threatening to mar her bright, honest expression. Rachel is nothing if not a competent actor and the thespian arts do involve a certain aptitude for improv no matter the circumstances.

Quinn's eyebrows remain fixed in the confused scowl just long enough for Rachel to feel ice run through her veins. Finally the confused expression melts back into the familiar look of contempt. She rolls her eyes as she glances back towards Santana, "Of course you would bond with Rachel Berry of all people over too much alcohol, Santana."

Rachel feels the skin between her eyebrows crinkle. She doesn't like the tone in Quinn's voice. "I'll have you know Quinn that we had quite a pleasant evening." She tries to infuse a level of certainty into her voice but the lies and omissions are already starting to weigh on her conscience.

Santana seems to sense Rachel's softening will and she quickly leads them back into the kitchen, "So what'll it be Quinn? Stay and drink or run and hide out?"

Quinn glares at Santana, "What about Sam?" she asks abruptly, "l thought you would have been with him since he's your new boyfriend?"

Rachel is surprised by this. She didn't know that Santana and Sam were officially an item. Rachel fights against the emotion in her chest which vaguely resembles jealousy. Rachel knows that there is no point in being jealous. That whatever happens, Santana and her are a casual fling and nothing more. Santana manages to look a tiny bit guilty but it is unclear as to whether that is due to her potential stealing of Quinn's boyfriend or the potential 'cheating' against Rachel with Sam. Or is that cheating against Sam with Rachel?

Rachel suddenly has an appreciation for how complicated everything has gotten within the last ten minutes.

"Santana and I had a prior engagement for tonight," Rachel interrupts, "We are planning on drinking copious amounts of alcohol whilst enjoying the opportunity to engage with one another outside of the confines of our roles at school. If you are prepared to put aside the grudges and agendas which occupy your McKinley based persona then you are welcome to stay. Otherwise, you can find another venue for you Friday night's activities." Rachel is sure that Quinn will refuse the invitation and find an excuse to leave.

There is no obvious explanation when Quinn nods her head and says, "I guess I can accept those terms."

She takes the vodka from Santana's loose grasp and walks back in the direction of the kitchen. Rachel and Santana both stare after her for several long moments before turning towards each other.

_What the fuck?_ Santana mouths silently.

_I don't know!_ Rachel mouths in reply.

_Why the fuck would you ask her to stay?_

_Why the hell would she agree to stay? _ Neither Rachel nor Santana have an explanation to give so they both follow Quinn back into the kitchen without another word.

Quinn grabs three glasses out of the cupboard and places them carefully on the bench. She opens the fridge and retrieves the diet coke. With a practiced flick of her wrist Quinn pours two fingers of vodka into each glass and tops them up with the coke.

Santana seems non plussed by Quinn's expert drink making skill but Rachel can't help the query that is written across her features. Quinn glances at her and sighs, "My parents drink a bit. I learned pretty early in my life how to pour a standard shot."

Rachel is desperate to know more but is silenced by a look from Santana who takes one of the glasses and raises it in front of her in a toast, "To forgetting the bullshit," she says before chugging the contents of the glass quickly.

Rachel mimics the action hesitantly once she sees Quinn nod with a hard expression then down her rather strong drink in one long draw. She tries not to cringe against the alcohol in her drink since neither Quinn nor Santana seemed to mind the taste of theirs.

* * *

The conversation between the three girls is limited, to say the least. Any discussion of their love lives tended to end abruptly with awkward glances. Any discussion of Cheerios or Glee ended similarly. And of course any discussion regarding school tended to fizzle out quickly in the same old gripes about homework and the lack luster efforts of the McKinley teaching staff.

Santana spends most of the time trying to pour more alcohol into Quinn's glass without her noticing. Rachel would not ordinarily condone such behavior but the interruption in their plans is pressing her nerves. She felt no urge to spend the night entertaining Quinn Fabray's various insecurities. The amount of alcohol that she and Santana consume is enough to give a happy buzz without complete intoxication. The alcohol that Quinn is unwittingly consuming is enough to knock out a grizzly bear.

Quinn is starting to get a bit of a sway up where she sits on the floor by the coffee table. She takes another sip of her drink as she glares between Rachel and Santana for the hundredth time that night. She has so far refrained from making any further comments on their new found friendship(or whatever). Obviously she can't hold it in any longer though and her eyes flick to Rachel to stare at her searchingly, "Seriously why are you here Rachel? How does this even happen?" she swings her gaze to Santana. "Really, like in what alternate reality is this possible? I mean you're, like the hottest head bitch at school and she...she is Rachel...Rachel Berry." Quinn points at Rachel as though to emphasize her point.

Santana rolls her eyes and looks over at Rachel who is sitting opposite her on the couch. She's gnawing on her lip as though searching for the best response to appease Quinn. Finally her eyes light up, "I'm tutoring her in Spanish." she almost shouts it out as the idea has obviously only just occurred to her.

Quinn is still looking speculatively between them so Rachel jumps in, "Yes that's right. My fathers are talking about going to...South America in...um...the fall and I would like to be able to use some basic phrases. Hola Quinn. Mi nombre es Rachel. Puede dirigir a la biblioteca de mi?" she uses the generic _can you direct me to the library_ phrase. She is pretty sure that even if Quinn doesn't understand any Spanish she would probably at least recognise the basics.

Santana nods along vigorously, "Yeah, she paid me fifty bucks."

Quinn arches one eyebrow, "I thought you said you bonded over a night of alcohol and _commiserating over each other's relationship woes_." She puts on a high tone of voice at the last sentence, obviously mocking Rachel's voice. Rachel wonders why Quinn thought her words were so worth memorizing.

Santana jumps in before Rachel can respond, "Yeah, well I learned to tolerate Smurfette's personality long enough to get hammered with her. Anyone is tolerable with enough spirits," she ends with a pointed look at Quinn who huffs into her glass as she takes another swig.

Rachel looks at Quinn thoughtfully, "Quinn can you speak Spanish?" she asks. Quinn shakes her head in the negative. Rachel tries a test, "Entiendes las palabras que estoy diciendo?" _Do you understand the words I'm saying?_ Quinn shows no signs of comprehension and Rachel looks over to Santana.

Santana knows what Rachel is doing and smirks as she says in Spanish, "_The bitch sitting on the floor has no fucking idea what we're saying right now._" she glances at Quinn because her phrasing was another test to see if their assumptions were correct.

Quinn looks a little disgruntled at being left out of the conversation but shows no signs of comprehension. Rachel grins at the possibilities now open to her, "_You look hot tonight Santana. I didn't get to tell you earlier._"

Santana grins, "_You aren't completely unfortunate looking either Munchkin. Those jeans are definitely going to get you fucked tonight._"

Rachel feels her cheeks flush with colour. She understands the course language Santana used because of an older boy she had befriended in her Spanish lessons a few years earlier.

Quinn groans from the floor, "Would you two stop that? And...did you just say Munchkin Santana? Because you know that people usually use that to talk to people they like," she drains the last of her drink and slams it onto the coffee table. Santana winces at the impact and places the glass on a coaster after refilling it with a fifty/fifty mix of vodka and orange. Quinn continues to glare between the two of them.

Rachel can see that Quinn is getting angrier by the second and tries to appease her, "I apologise for our rudeness Quinn. It is terribly impolite for two people to converse in a language a third party has no knowledge of."

Quinn just rolls her eyes, "Save it Berry. I'm going to work out what is going on between you two. Even if I have to stay up all night."

Rachel's eyes widen and she hears a small groan from Santana. Rachel stares down at Quinn, noticing just how glazed her eyes are. She laughs, "I'm afraid you'll have to wait longer than that Quinn." She sees Santana give her an alarmed look but ignores it. Quinn has already downed half the vodka orange and stumbles to her feet.

"I need to er...drain the lizard." Quinn says with a smile.

She chuckles at Rachel's grimace. "I heard Puck use that one aaaaall the time when I had to live with him. Do you remember that? Before 'Cedes came in like a white...no a _black_ night in shining armor and saved me from the _eeeevil Puckasaurus,_" Quinn gives another giggle before making her wobbly way to the bathroom. She pats Rachel's head playfully, her hand tracing down her hair and across her shoulder. "So soft," she murmurs.

Santana slumps into the chair and huffs a breath of air into her hair, "Why would you say that about Quinn having to wait longer than all night to work us out. Keep saying shit like that and she will work it out and then where will I be. Screwed is where I'll be."

"Don't be such an alarmist Santana. You saw that exit. I'll be surprised if Quinn even remembers arriving at your house with the amount she's drunk. She needs to 'drain the lizard'? Honestly can you imagine Quinn saying anything like that sober?" Santana just shrugs in reply so Rachel gives an affirmative nod. "Of course she wouldn't. Now, about this whole Spanish thing." Rachel wears a devious smirk as she lifts herself from the end of the couch and slides up to sit next to Santana. "I understood from our encounter last week that you enjoy the way I talk." Santana rolls her eyes but doesn't disagree so Rachel continues, "So if we were to...hablar de lo que podría estar haciendo si Quinn no estuviera aquí." Rachel runs her hand boldly up Santana's thigh as she says the words _talk about what we could be doing if Quinn wasn't here._

Santana grabs her hand before she can make it all the way up her thigh but doesn't remove her hand. Instead, Rachel's hand is actually trapped in place as Santana breaths out in Spanish, "_You can't do that. Quinn can come back at any second._"

Rachel leans into her side and presses down with the hand on Santana's thigh. She lets her lips brush against her ear, "_But you love it. I know you do. Your heart is beating faster. I can see it pulsing in your throat. You're breathing is faster. You want me._"

Rachel pulls away when she hears the bathroom door opening again. Santana is still staring determinedly in the direction of the TV when Quinn stumbles back into the room. Quinn glares at Santana curiously and then accusingly at Rachel, "You broke her Berry. You broke her with all of your...words. How do you do that? You just open your pretty mouth and all these words come out and then people are broken."

Santana finally comes out of her lust induced trance and scowls at Quinn's words, "Cannit Blondie. I am not broken. I'm just still trying to work out why you're here."

Quinn's eyes flare, though her angry expression is a little slow to form with all of the alcohol in her system, "Don't you give me that attitude Santana Lopez. I'm here because you got between me and Finn. No between you and um, between me and Sam."

"Oh please, they're nothing but interchangeable bodies to you. You would have broken up with Sam anyway."

"But why do you even want him Santana? I mean you just take and take and it isn't fair. Why can't you just be happy with the blonde you already have?"

Santana's eyes widen in alarm and Rachel tries to make herself invisible, slipping away to stand behind the couch. Neither girl acknowledges her move. Santana's mouth opens and closes a few times before she can speak, "And what is that supposed to mean."

Quinn looks like she has said too much and Rachel knows she has, even if she doesn't understand the details of Santana's situation with Brittany. Quinn tries to look unapologetic even as she tries to backpedal quickly. Again, the alcohol is making her emotions drift slowly and blatantly across her face, "It doesn't mean anything. Except that I am sick of you." she lets out a big huff of air as she flops onto the couch. Rachel had been so caught up in watching the way both girls' eyes add to their verbal sparring she had barely noticed Quinn edging her way closer to the couch.

Rachel stares on helplessly as the angry diatribe continues to spew endlessly from Quinn's mouth, "You, Santana are a bad girl that...that uses all of the sexy, um, hot gifts that God gave her to _steal_—you hear me Santana—to _steal_ other girl's boyfriends. You stole my boyfriend. Even if that boy is stupider than... than a bottle of grass vodka," she smiles at her perceived witticism, pointing at the bottle in Santana's hands. " And even if you are doing...things with Rachel. Even if you are doing...things with the long, sexy...umm sexy legs of Rachel the Berry then that is your prog...perry...pear...prerogative," she finishes finally with a glassy eyed glance at Rachel. "You are really—" Rachel doesn't get to find out what Quinn thinks she is because Quinn has finally passed out, slumping against the couch with her eyes closed.

Santana just nods as she jumps up from the couch and drags a blanket over Quinn, "Yes Quinn, it is certainly my prerogative what sexy things I do with Rachel's legs." She turns to Rachel and winks as she grabs a full bottle of water from beside the couch and presses it into Quinn's arms. Rachel finds the usual thrill of hearing her given name on Santana's lips. The feeling is also echoed in a belated realisation that Quinn had been calling her 'Rachel' as well. She resists the urge to jump Santana as she silently watches her tuck Quinn into the pile of blankets on the couch. Santana carefully tugs Quinn's legs up onto the couch and places a cushion under her head. She also darts into the kitchen and comes back with a large, empty container, placing it on the floor near Quinn's head.

Rachel feels certain that there must be a guest bedroom somewhere in the house but also feels no urge to carry Quinn to is a pretty good chance that it would be upstairs and for all that Quinn is undoubtedly very light, there is no way Rachel would consider carrying her up any stairs. What if Quinn decided to kick out when they were half way up? Then what?

Seeing Quinn finally passed out and breathing deeply Rachel has to shake her head, "How did she even last so long?" she glances at the bottle of vodka which is more than half empty. "We hardly drank a thing which means that she had at least what, eight, nine standard drinks in the last few hours."

Santana just shrugs, "She's a seasoned drinker, our Quinn. Last summer after Beth was born she spent nearly everyday in a bottle of scotch. Vodka is like a half strength wine cooler to her these days."

Rachel frowns at the explanation. Quinn had seemed so up beat when they got back to school at the start of the year. Completely back to the old Quinn. If what Santana had said were true then Quinn had experienced quite the trauma following the adoption of her child. Rachel had gone through her own intensive therapy sessions after learning that her biological mother had chosen to adopt an infant. Her father's had been very understanding of Rachel's wallowing in the first few weeks of summer. She hadn't particularly thought about what sort of support Quinn would have at home. Rachel wonders absently what would have happened if she had gone to the Fabray house early in the summer. Would Quinn have accepted her shoulder to cry on? Or would Quinn have drowned her sorrows in a bottle regardless of her company.

Santana tilted her head to look at Rachel, "She is getting better. I think. I mean, she's refocusing. Back to the old Quinn. Mostly."

Rachel just nods as she takes Santana's hand absently. She glances down at their joined hands surprised both by her gesture and by Santana's easy acceptance of it. Santana just shrugs her shoulders tugging Rachel away from the couch and the lightly snoring Quinn.

They stop at the bottom of the stairs. Rachel sighs and closes her eyes as she feels soft Lips pressed against her own. She instantly forgets about the blonde girl passed out on the couch just a few feet behind them. When Santana presses her fingers into Rachel's hair and runs her nails along her scalp, Rachel presses her body forward. The feeling of Santana against her is enough to spread a flood of warmth through her body to a now pulsing heat between her legs.

Rachel has no earthly idea how Santana does this to her. She only needs to see those dark, incredible eyes turned her way and she melts. The sound of Santana's voice causes her heart to squeeze in her chest. The touch of her hands against her cheeks causes her knees tremble and her blood to pulse thickly.

There is no resisting the girl now wrapped up in her arms. Their lips eventually part as they are forced to gasp for oxygen. They look into each other's eyes. There are no promises for the future. No declarations of love or eternal happiness. What they offer each other is right now. What they offer each other is the physical comforts of sex and passion. If they can claim nothing else now or in the future, they know that they share a passion for each other. They provoke and stimulate each other to reach higher and further in discovering the limits of their own passions.

Rachel sees the fire in Santana's eyes and feels the burning desire in her own body as Santana tugs Rachel towards the stairs. They stop every few steps to press their lips together. Rachel pushes and Santana pulls but the journey to the second floor is still gladly and blissfully slow. By the time they get onto the landing Rachel feels ready to spontaneously combust if Santana isn't on top of her soon.

Santana leads their stumbling forms to the bedroom and turns to close the door behind them. Rachel moves without hesitation towards the bed, stripping her shirt from her body as she walks. She moves her fingers to the button of her jeans but is stopped by Santana who presses her body along Rachel's back. Rachel leans her body into the embrace fighting back a groan as she feels Santana push back her hair and press hot, wet kisses against her neck. She lifts one arm, encouraging Santana with a hand in her hair.

Rachel doesn't know which sensation to concentrate on as Santana seemingly wraps herself around her whole being. The lips on her neck are incredibly hot. The body pressed against her back shoots thrills straight to her groin. The hands stroking against her hips and running along the waistband of her jeans are teasing her body into an irregular rhythm. The hands, running along the course fabric of her jeans finally gain her full attention when Santana makes a deliberate move towards the buttons in the middle of the band. Santana pops the first button as she deliberately sucks at Rachel's neck.

"_Fuck San_, _keep going_ " she exclaims, realizing belatedly that she had spoken in spanish. She has no idea why the Spanish words had come to her. A combination of the situation she finds herself with the conversation from earlier draws the phrases out of her. She continues, "San—Santana, _you feel so amazing against me, I can't wait to feel you inside_." The phrasing is crude and she wonders if the words would have come so easily in English. It doesn't matter one jot when Santana growls animalistically and snaps the last two buttons of Rachel's jeans apart actually pressing her teeth into Rachel's neck. She already knows there will be marks.

She has no complaints as Rachel can't help the yelp that escapes her when Santana's hand disappears abruptly into her underwear. Santana continues licking and sucking against her neck. The hand down Rachel's front dips lower, drawing up wetness to her throbbing clit. Santana has her other hand inside Rachel's bra, tweaking her nipple with two fingers. The gentle, slow care from their first encounter is completely gone.

Rachel knows that she won't last long. The wait on the couch downstairs had almost killed her. Now Santana was being aggressive and assertive and grinding against her so deliciously that Rachel felt she could shudder into non-existence at any moment. Rachel can feel Santana's breasts against her back and she is also quite sure that Santana is pressing her centre against her ass, forcing friction in whatever way she can, given their position.

Rachel wants to turn around, to pull Santana to the bed and take her like she had wanted to do the last time. With Rachel on top. Unfortunately Santana is taller and stronger and there is nothing that Rachel can do to change things now. Surprisingly, this doesn't frighten or even annoy her. She loves the way that Santana is in control of the situation and she can feel her body flooding Santana's a hand with even more wetness as she Santana presses her teeth into the soft flesh on the other side of Rachel's neck.

Santana presses even harder into Rachel's back and she recognizes a silent directive to move forwards. Frustratingly, Santana isn't moving them to the bed, rather she is directing them toward the desk to one side of it. Rachel is far too distracted by Santana's fingers making hard circles against her clit to worry about where her feet are going. She is almost completely supported by Santana's arms around her anyway. When she finds herself with her thighs pressed against a timber desk, she merely tightens her hold on Santana's neck and her forearm. Santana has forced them both hard against the desk so that the movement of her hand in Rachel's jeans is even more restricted. She makes up for this by forcing her fingers down and plunging them deep into Rachel.

She gasps at the sudden intrusion but revels in the feeling of Santana's fingers moving inside her. Rachel wonders what Santana is planning to do now that she has maneuvered them into such an awkward position. She doesn't have to wait long though when she feels Santana thrust her hips hard into her from behind. Everything that was awkward about their position is now perfect as Santana's fingers are go even deeper inside and the heel of her hand is forced against Rachel's clit.

The feeling is completely overwhelming and it only takes a few more well placed thrusts against the desk for Rachel to feel the wave of her climax roll through her. She collapses fully against the desk, Santana holding her firmly against her body. With her front slumped over Rachel's back, her lips continue to press against Rachel's neck and shoulders.

Rachel turns around in Santana's arms trying to remember what she had done to work Santana up the other night. She looks into Santana's eyes and feels the warmth of affection flood through her. She kisses her lips, glad that Santana returns the kiss tenderly. They share affection in that moment that can't be taken away. Rachel feels light and free. The way that Santana's lips move against hers is almost hypnotizing and she leans into Santana's body, content.

Rachel winds her hands into her hair as she feels Santana's hands skim down her spine and across her backside. The tingle sent through her body at the gentle caress is incredibly stimulating. She leans back just a little and feels Santana follow, keeping their lips connected. Rachel takes the chance to lead them back to the bed with just a few steps. The backs of her legs hit the bed and she lets her body fall to the mattress, dragging Santana down on top of her.

Their lips barely break from one another even in their momentum.

She looks up at Santana from where she lays on the bed. Santana's eyes are incredibly dark. Almost black and the light from the lamp on the bedside table plays against her cheekbones and exaggerates her features exquisitely. Rachel is quite sure that Santana is one if the most beautiful people she has ever seen. Even as young as she is, she could easily stand against any model or beautiful woman several years her senior.

Rachel squirms out from under her weight and moves toward the center if he bed. When she reaches the centre she braces herself subtly. Santana hovers above her placing soft kisses across her jaw and down her neck. Giving no warning Rachel grips Santana's hips with her knees. She shifts her weight against one shoulder, throwing Santana onto her back. She quickly maneuvers herself on top of the other girl so that she is laying over her.

Rachel takes full advantage of their new position, sucking at Santana's neck and running her hands up and down her sides, licking and nibbling at her neck. She feels the girl underneath her pushing up even as her hands press into Rachel's back, shifting across her shoulders and intermittently pressing into her ass. Rachel plays with the hem of Santana's top and slips beneath the fabric to caress the skin underneath. Santana's hands follow a similar journey, running along the loosened edge of Rachel's jeans and playing across her underwear.

Rachel is suddenly sick of the fabric which separates them. She grinds her hips into Santana's and slips her hands under her lower back and under her tank top. The fabric shifts quickly over her shoulder blades and Santana lifts her arms obligingly. Rachel stares down at the incredible body beneath her, unsure where to start. Santana's breasts are certainly incredible and she has something of a morbid curiosity to explore the tiny surgery scars more closely. There is also her stomach and her hips, her waist and that area around her ribs which has a certain appeal. Her thighs are also most definitely an area Rachel would like to investigate once the jeans are removed.

So many possibilities.

Santana smirks up at her and Rachel knows that she should just stop thinking and start doing. She needs to follow her body to the natural conclusions. Santana's hands are caressing up her thighs, across her hips and into her bare lower back, prompting Rachel to lean forward into Santana. Rachel licks, sucks and tastes the skin exposed below Santana's lifted chin, pushing a hand between their bodies to reach the button of Santana's jeans. The button and complies quickly and Rachel is able to make quick work of the jeans, tearing them away from Santana's body with quick movements.

She throws the jeans to one side and reconnects quickly with Santana's body. She forces her leg against Santana's centre and roughly grinds down. Santana throws her arms around Rachel's shoulder at the sensation of the rough fabric rubbing against her. When Rachel feels Santana's hands at the clasp of her bra she mirrors the action, pushing the fabric away.

They both gasp at the feeling of skin on skin contact. They kiss again, long and hard as Rachel pushes her thigh between Santana's leg building something of a rough rhythm.

They are both breathing heavily when Santana pulls her face away from Rachel's. "Rach, take the jeans off now," she groans out urgently. "I want to feel you."

Rachel chuckles lowly, "Decir por favor," she demands that Santana _say please_.

"Oh god, Rachel just—ungh!" Rachel thrusts heavily into her crotch as she forces both hands under Santana's ass, pulling them even harder together. She continues muttering spanish into Santana's ear, "_You need to say the magic words if you want me to do anything for you Santana._"

Santana gulps audibly, "Please Rachel, please," she begs. Rachel doesn't think Santana even knows what she's begging for anymore as she feels her hips cant upwards and her short nails dig into her shoulder blades. Rachel reattaches her lips to Santana's neck and continues in her rhythm of pressing against the girl beneath her. Feeling Santana's body responding to her actions Rachel leans back enough to look into her face. When Rachel moves one hand between them to tweak hard at her nipple Santana's eyes snap open. Her mouth is slightly agape and her eyelids flutter but don't close as she looks directly into Rachel's eyes.

With one hand busy at Santana's breast, Rachel shifts her other hand from under her and pushes it swiftly down into Santana's underwear. Rachel gasps when she feels the wet heat at her fingertips. There is only a slight stutter in her rhythm as she swirls her fingertips across Santana's clit in between each thrust of her jean clad thigh. The angle is awkward and Rachel's arm is strained with the effort but she can see by her expression that Santana is close to her climax.

Rachel glances down between them and sees just enough through the small gap which appears between their bodies. The flash she sees of her hand disappearing into's Santana's underwear, one hand against her breast sends a rush of arousal through her body. Suddenly she knows what she wants to do and how she wants to touch Santana. She stops her thrusting and pushes away from the bed. Santana whines at the loss of contact but her eyes widen when Rachel pushes her jeans down her legs. Rachel smiles smugly at the look of appreciation and climbs back onto the bed.

She settles herself on her knees between Santana's legs. Santana's eyes get wider again and Rachel fights the urge to giggle. She is a little uncertain about how to proceed but she follows her bodies promptings as she hooks her fingers into the sides of Santana's underwear and pulls. Santana lifts herself just enough to let the last article of clothing slip down her thighs and Rachel pulls them the rest of the way past Santana's calves, ankles and feet. A rush of nervousness floods Rachel as she stares down at Santana. Her eyes flicker between Santana's intimate centre and her eyes. Those incredible eyes that are looking down at her with so much tenderness and another emotion Rachel doesn't expect.

Santana smiles and Rachel can see that special trust she herself had felt during their first night together. Rachel feels her nervousness disappear. Santana _trusts_ her, not with that momentous 'first time' like Rachel had with her. Santana was trusting Rachel with her body, her secrets and her heart. Neither of them would claim a _love_ between them, at least not a romantic love but they had a trust, a friendship which allowed them to share this amazing thing. They could share in each other's bodies and each other's pleasure in the most intimate ways. Rachel allows the feelings flooding her chest to fill her eyes as she leans forward.

Rachel runs both hands up Santana's thighs and presses a kiss to the crease where thighs and abdomen meet. She settles her body down against the bed and shifts one shoulder under Santana's bent leg. She looks up into her eyes and Santana nods reassuringly. Rachel takes a deep breath and leans in to lick up Santana's folds.

The taste is...difficult to describe or analogize. The scent is similarly incomparable but Rachel thinks she could easily enjoy it on a daily basis. Knowing that she is close to overanalyzing everything, Rachel makes a deliberate effort to clear her mind and just enjoy. She explores the same areas that she had just explored with her fingers and is surprised by how sensitive her tongue is compared to her fingertips. She brings her hand up and slips her fingers into Santana's folds to make a more direct comparison.

When Santana's hips cant up, nearly bucking her off Rachel adjusts her attention back to pleasuring the incredible girl that had so recently brought her to an orgasm. She returns her tongue to circle Santana's clit and glances back up to watch Santana's features. Her eyes are closed again and she is pressing her left hand against her chest, fondling her breast. Rachel lifts her free hand to flick her fingertips across her other nipple. She can feel a new strain in her back and neck as she keeps her upper body raised without the aid of her hands. She knows the small strain is worth it when Santana actually yelps out her pleasure at the fresh contact.

Rachel grins and adjusts the hand still moving through Santana so that her fingertips are circling her entrance. She slips the fingers inside slowly and she can't help the way that her eyes flutter closed. The sensation is amazing and when she feels Santana press her fingertips into her hair she is almost in tactile overload. Even though Santana is barely touching her, everything about what she is doing, the way Santana is moving above her is enough to drive her quickly back to the edge of orgasm. She thrusts her fingers into Santana harder and faster. She flicks her tongue quicker, alternating tight circles and intermittent licks with the flat of her tongue, effectively lapping at Santana's wetness.

When Santana gasps out a single word "_More,_" Rachel is momentarily confused but after another firm thrust in and then out she realises what Santana means. In conjunction with another firm lick, Rachel withdraws her fingers to the first joint realigning to include a third. With another lap of her tongue she pushes her hand forward again. Santana's legs jump up around Rachel's ears and she feels that now almost familiar flickering of Santana's internal walls against her fingers.

Rachel can feel Santana's body shuddering against her and she keeps her fingers still inside of Santana as her body squeezes them tightly. She keeps rubbing the flat of her tongue against Santana's clit very softly and runs the palm of her other hand across Santana's breasts and stomach. Santana's orgasm is quiet but violent as her body continues to thrum and her legs quake.

Rachel can feel her own body streaming with adrenaline and arousal. She had never brought another person to orgasm deliberately. She didn't count her first time with Santana because she had been too distracted by Santana's ministrations to really participate in getting Santana 'off'. Yes her fingers had been inside of Santana when they had both climaxed but this is still different. With her tongue pressed into Santana's hot centre and her fingers buried deeply inside Rachel feels an incredible sense of accomplishment. Much like reaching a new high note and extending her range in singing. She had observed and experienced and extended her capabilities and knowledge.

When Santana's hand tugs at her shoulder Rachel pushes against the mattress, adjusting her hands so she can lift up her body back up against Santana's. Santana grins up at her and presses a chaste kiss against her lips. Rachel smiles back at her and lies down against Santana's side. She rests her head against her shoulder and closes her eyes.

Santana giggles softly, "I'll be with you in a second Berry. Just need to catch my breath."

Rachel just nods a silent _uh huh_, throwing her arm over Santana's torso and breathing the other girl in. She feels safe and content. She knows that Santana will be suitably recovered to continue soon but for now there is nothing in the world that she needs. Her heart rate slows gradually and she feels herself drifting unexpectedly towards sleep.

* * *

Let me know what you think of this chapter and if you want another one. Any ideas or suggestions are welcome since I honestly had no thoughts of continuing. I don't know if maybe I would do something from Quinn's POV? I'd love to hear what you guys think.


	3. Ropable

**AN:** Thanks for all the awesome reviews guys. The Nays have it on the Fapezberry threesome but on the upside: Quinn's POV is a go. Enjoy!

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She wakes with sunlight on her face, blankets above her and a bottle of water in her arms. The booze shakes, headache and giant plasma screen across from the couch she was asleep on tell her she is at Santana's house. She quickly downs half of the water she is cradling and sits up on the couch. That might be a mistake and she fights the nausea rocking her gut. She takes another swig from the bottle and feels her body adjusting. She escapes the over warm confines of her temporary bedding and stumbles towards the bathroom. The nausea passes quickly but her stomach is still roiling uncomfortably.

She releases the pressure of her bladder which allows her stomach to register the hunger she'd been ignoring. She remembers that she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast the day before and she moves to attend her growling stomach. The Lopez kitchen is familiar enough to her that she quickly finds fresh bread, butter and honey. The instant the rough sandwich hits her stomach she feels better.

Quinn tidies everything away out of habit, even washing up the butter knife and plate she used rather than just throwing them in the dishwasher. She is distracted when the sound of giggling and a low thump sounds over her head. Santana must be awake. Which mean Brittany must be awake. But no that isn't right either because Brittany is seeing Artie and wasn't here last night.

A flash of images run through her mind. Rachel Berry standing at Santana's front door. Rachel and Santana sitting at opposite ends of the couch that Quinn had woken up on.

Curiosity burns through her and she wonders of she'd managed to figure out what they had been up to last night. She knows from previous experience that the alcohol-blanks in her memory will return to her eventually given the right visual stimulus. She decides to find Rachel and see if she can talk to her without Santana present. Maybe she can intimidate the smaller girl into revealing what is happening with the two of them.

She is hopeful even though Rachel had proved quite resilient against her techniques in the past. Quinn walks quickly and quietly upstairs checking the guest room first. She is surprised to find the door wide open and the blankets unruffled. Walking past Santana's brother's old room she can see that the bed hasn't been slept in for some time. That only really leaves Santana's room since no one is alowed to even enter Mr and Mrs Lopez's room. Quinn wonders if maybe Rachel had left after Quinn had passed out. Anything is possible at this point.

Quinn can hear movement on the other side of Santana's door which is slightly ajar. She isn't surprised by the open door since this particular door had been almost habitually opening at irregular intervals for years. They had often jammed things against it during sleep overs so that Santana's parents wouldn't hear any of their truth or dare secrets. Quinn leans forward and peaks through the crack. She had no intention of spying, she just didn't want to walk in on Santana changing or something. She can see via the reflection of Santana's dressing table mirror that there are two people on the bed.

At first she can't quite work out what they're doing which is ridiculous. Their naked bodies are moving together in a way that can't be mistaken for anything else. Both are kneeling upright with Rachel astride Santana's lap. Santana's left hand has disappeared between Rachel's legs, her arm obviously straining to shift her hand at the right angle and in the right rhythm. Her right hand is resting on Rachel's hip guiding the smaller girl's undulating motions against her sweat slick thighs.

Quinn stares in stupefied awe as they look into each other's eyes. Their focus is solely on one another and Quinn is finally getting a grasp on the intimacy of their situation. It's eventually one hundred percent clear what is happening when Santana's gaze drops from Rachel's face to her chest. Quinn slaps a hand to her mouth to stop the gasp escaping her when Santana leans forward and captures one of Rachel's nipples between her lips. Rachel throws her head back in obvious ecstasy at the sensations Santana is giving her.

Quinn feels a sudden rush of jealousy and something else burn through her body. The jealousy she recognizes easily because it is so familiar after weeks of watching Rachel and Finn dancing around each other as the perfect couple. The other feeling that clenches deep in her gut is less familiar. Quinn can't deny having felt it before and despite her limited experience with it, she recognizes it straight away.

Lust.

The tingling, slow burn radiating throughout her body as she watches Rachel's back arch and Santana's arm thrust is unmistakable. Quinn tries to tear her eyes away from the scene playing out in front of her. She knows that if either girl turns slightly towards the door or the mirror they will spot her. She knows that everything she is feeling is wrong and punishable with not only a lecture or grounding but with honest to goodness Hell.

Quinn tries to pull herself away from the door. With every conscious thought and moral inclination she screams at herself to turn and walk away. With her Father's voice loud in her ear she berates herself. It's to no avail though as she stares in at the two girls. One of which she counts as a friend even if not a trusted one. The other who has tried so hard over and again to connect with her on the most basic human level. Quinn can't seem to force herself to stop watching them. With every passing moment she feels her body's reactions amplifying and accelerating. It's all she can do to not thrust her hand directly into her underwear.

She squeezes her thighs together, stupefied by her reactions. She had never before felt such supreme lust. She has never in her life wanted anything more than to be in that room right at that moment. To be under Rachel like Santana is under her right now.

This thought along with a startling thrum of sensation coursing through her lower(lower) abdomen is enough to push her away from the door and back towards the stairs.

Before she can get past the top step she hears a low groan and semi-squeal which she can only assume must be Rachel's final release. Its the most erotic thing she has ever heard and she shuts her eyes shuddering at the additional thrum of energy that she feels at the thought of Rachel moaning to a climax.

Quinn has to wonder if there is still alcohol in her system. Never has she been so thoroughly overrun with impure thoughts about another person. Certainly she has never had impure thoughts about another girl. She sprints down the stairs as quietly as possible, throwing herself back onto the couch and under the blankets as she hears movements upstairs that indicate the two girls might be getting out of bed. Quinn hopes that is the case. If they start having sex anywhere other than Santana's bed and Quinn has to hear it she might just go completely insane.

Quinn runs both hands down her face, desperately trying to clear the images from her mind: Rachel lying on her back on the floor; Rachel pressed hard against the wall; Rachel under the bleachers at school, moaning Quinn's name.

Quinn bites down on her own tongue at the last image especially. Her imagination well and truly getting the better of her there. The pain is enough and she clears her head of the more lustful images as Santana makes it down the stairs and into the living room. Quinn makes a show of stretching and rubbing sleep from her eyes. Santana walks over to the couch and flops down with a self satisfied expression. Quinn tries not to feel the rush of jealousy that invades her chest. She takes a few long gulps of the water she had woken up with as Santana watches her. That smug expression only slightly masked behind her usual head bitch brand of hostility.

Finally Quinn is forced to confront Santana's searching gaze, "What?" she asks, sick of the staring. "Do I have epic fabric creases or bed hair or something?" Quinn tries not to cringe at the last part since Santana is sporting what can only be described as sex hair. It's like Santana wants her to know what she had just been doing with Rachel. But that would be ridiculous. Santana's reputation means everything to her.

Santana gives her a speculative look, "What do you remember from last night?" she asks finally.

Quinn shrugs. She remembers being extremely angry and coming to Santana to tear her apart for being a boyfriend stealing harlot. She remembers Rachel showing up with a bottle of _green_ vodka. After that everything gets downright fuzzy. She can remember images and snippets of music to accompany some parts of the night but the conversations are all a bit if a blur. She remembers Rachel speaking Spanish and it being incredibly captivating which is ridiculous. She hears Santana swearing in Spanish all the time and there was never anything captivating about it.

She runs her hand over her eyes and gives a slight negative in the form of a head shake. Santana raises her eyebrows. Quinn tries to think of something to say other than, _You're fucking Rachel Berry!_

She decides to go with the safest option, "Umm, well, I remember coming here to yell at you and then Rachel...Berry arrived," she tried to play it off as though oblivious to what had been happening upstairs. "Is she still here?"

Santana doesn't miss the way that she nearly said just Rachel's first name and she raises one eyebrow before she nods, "Yeah, she's still here. She slept in the guest bedroom."

Quinn knows that she is lying both because she had seen the guest bedroom untouched and because Santana had some massive tells whenever she lied. Quinn had known and mistrusted Santana for long enough to spot every single one.

Quinn takes another swig of water so she can consider what to say next. She's normally all over the whole lying thing. She's had a lot of practice at it but when she's as hungover as she is, her thoughts tend to come a little slower than usual, "Well you've got to admit that's a little weird Santana. Why would Berry be here, let alone staying the night?"

Quinn has a feeling that she has asked this question the night before already and when Santana answers, she knows it. Quinn continues, going on the offensive, "Well it's all some kind of freaky weird Santana and you had better hope that it doesn't get out around school that you are voluntarily spending your Friday nights with overachieving Glee nerds instead of your friends," Quinn baits her words with as much provocation as she can manage and Santana bites at the easiest hook.

"Okay, Public Service Announcement Barbie, let me worry about what the peons that occupy our school think of me and my Friday night activities. If I were you, I'd be a little more concerned with how _you_ were to explain your aversion to bright lights this morning." she snapped her hands together near Quinn's left ear making her flinch at the sound.

Santana smirks, obviously glad that her point and subsequent bribery options were clear. The two girls are at something of a stalemate. Quinn can't really tell anyone that she had seen Santana and Berry together without Santana telling everyone how much alcohol Quinn puts away on a regular basis.

Quinn tips the last of the water into her mouth and swallows deliberately, "Well Santana, so long as you can keep this from the rest of the Cheerios then you don't have to worry about me discussing this with—" Quinn is cut off by the sound of soft footfalls on the stairs.

Quinn's heart almost stops because she knows exactly who it must be coming down the stairs. A dream in tight denim is taking careful steps into the room fiddling nervously at the end of her shirt. Rachel has obviously tried to flatten the unruly tangle of her hair but failed to shift the just-fucked look from herself.

Quinn's chest tightens again and she makes immediate efforts to hide her sudden discomfort, "What are you doing here Berry? Shouldn't you be off writing songs about how hard it is to be a gay Jew in America?"

Rachel cocks her head to the side in an adorably confused stance, "While I understand your references Quinn I'm afraid you may be off on some details. While I am indeed Jewish and actually sexually fluid I believe you may be more referencing my fathers who identify as Gay. I believe there is probably a useful pamphlet on the subject of identity and gender issues in Ms Pillsbury's office if you were interested in understanding the—"

Quinn cuts her off before she can get any further. She knows that if she has to listen to Rachel talking any longer then she might do something stupid like slap her. Or possibly kiss her with as much passion as she can muster. Quinn shakes her head, blaming the alcohol which is undoubtedly still streaming through her body. It's got to be the alcohol that makes her breath catch at the sight of bite marks on Rachel's neck too.

"Rachel, please stop talking before I am forced to punch you in the face," Quinn states as firmly as possible. She tries to pour as much conviction into the statement as possible. She can only hope that the tiny shake in her voice that comes from spotting another hickey on Rachel's wrist sounds like sleep depravation rather than lust.

Rachel takes a half step back and places her hands behind her back, her lips pulled in between her teeth in a show of silencing herself. The gesture is...cute. And Quinn hates herself.

Quinn nods as she scans the room for her keys and bag, "I'm glad you have finally understood the directive to remain silent Berry." she finds her belongings and makes sure that they are all together. "Just stay away from me Berry for all occasions not required by Glee and we can remain...well clearly not friends but at least indifferent acquaintances," she nods at Santana as she moves to the front door. "Santana, I'll see you at school on Monday."

Santana nods with a what-the-fuck expression clearly written across her face.

Quinn knows that she has ruined any illusion of nonchalance and also that she is in no way fit to drive but she has no other choice. Her car is right there and if she moves fast enough then hopefully neither of the girls inside the Lopez house will have the chance to confiscate her keys.

As it turns out, she needn't have worried about that because when she glances back towards the door she sees Santana slamming the front door shut as Rachel wraps her arms around her neck.

Quinn forces back the tears in her eyes knowing that she will be able to think more clearly after some more water and sleep. Because everything she's feeling and thinking...It's definitely just the alcohol.

– –

She gets home safely somehow, her head still all tangled up with thoughts of Rachel and Santana and what they're doing together. She scrambles into bed, determined to sleep off the hangover and any lingering alcohol in her system. She closes her eyes and clears her mind of all Rachel Berry related thoughts and images. Especially images.

Quinn snuggles into her pillow tightly enough that she can see stars behind her lids. She thinks about church and the sermons her minister makes every sunday, she does complicated math equations and runs through old Cheerios training routines. The Cheerios routines are less effective because they bring Santana and then Rachel back into her thoughts. She even has images of Rachel in a Cheerios uniform in her head. The low burn in her abdomen returns and she presses a palm to her face in an attempt to press the images from her mind.

Math is her only savior as she concentrates on visualising the most complicated algebra she can think of. She thinks long and hard about a train traveling from Connecticut to New York at sixty miles an hour and a plane traveling in the opposite direction. Finally her thoughts start to drift dreamily and she feels herself falling asleep.

When she sleeps she dreams of Rachel Berry.

– –

Monday is thankfully uneventful. She concentrates on her classes which help distract her from the images of the absurdly short skirt Rachel is wearing that day. Quinn has to wonder when she herself developed such an appreciation for knee high socks.

Tuesday is a little more trying. Quinn has to sit through an entire Glee Club lesson where Rachel and Santana don't share so much as a pointed glance. They are both so completely _normal_ and Quinn just can't comprehend how they can be so okay with the way things are. Where they screw each other over the weekend and then go back to ignoring each other all week at school. Quinn can barely get through her AP History class with Rachel without snapping and dragging her forcibly from the room.

Wednesday is a little more interesting. Quinn has faced yet another day of frustrating non happenings right up until her study period when she passes by the choir room to see Santana leaning against the wall by the door. She's looking shifty as hell and Quinn is instantly curious.

She sneaks up behind Santana and taps her on the shoulder, "Watcha doin San?"

Santana jumps about a mile into the air, clutching desperately at her chest as she turns around, "Jesus Quinn," she whispers in a hushed yell. "Why would you sneak up on me like that? You can see that I'm bing shifty."

Quinn can't deny that Santana certainly had 'creeper' written all over her body language. She shrugs in response and looks through the window in the choir room door. She can see Rachel and Finn talking inside and she turns to Santana, "You're spying on Berry now?" she asks incredulously.

Santana glares and shushes at Quinn as she grabs at her arm and presses them both out of view of the little window in the door, "Not spying you weirdo, just observing."

Quinn turns an expression on Santana that asks what the difference is.

Santana sighs, "I'm just making sure that Finncompetant isn't running Berry's self esteem so far into the ground that she chokes at Regionals. You know that we need this win with Glee to make up for not being on Cheerios any more."

She raises a good point and Quinn leans towards the door to listen more closely. Santana leans right along with her and they both hear Rachel telling Finn that she has written a song. That it might be a little rough but it's really special. Santana chuckles quietly at Rachel's words but Quinn remains silent, needing to hear what Rachel has written.

Brad is already at the piano and Quinn wonders for not the first time what the school must be paying the man that he would just loiter in the school for any and every opportunity to play piano for a bunch of teenagers.

From the very first word Rachel sings, Quinn is smiling.

Quinn has noticed before that Rachel is just so damn earnest and open in the way that she speaks and sings. Obviously, this earnestness has crossed through to the way that she _writes_ songs as well. When Quinn registers what the song is about she can't help but smile even more broadly. That girl is just too adorable for words.

Santana's shoulders are shaking with silent laughter and Quinn understands the impulse to laugh even if she doesn't feel it herself.

When Finn interrupts and the music stops Quinn is disappointed and cursing Finn as usual. When he basically says that the song sucked she is beyond angry. She knows that Santana is as well and they share a look that acknowledges the need to stay long enough to talk to Rachel without Finnidiot in the room.

– –

A few days later, when Puckerman tells Quinn about the party she's hesitant, "Why would I want to go to a party at Berry's house with no one but Glee freaks?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.

Puck leans into her with one arm resting on the locker behind and above her head, "Because it'll be a great chance for us all to bond...or something."

Quinn has missed this. The flirting and casual leering that Puck automatically does with her. It's just the kind of attention that she needs and craves. She knows that Puck is with Lauren and she isn't looking for a fight. She doesn't want Puck at all but the way that he looks at her and the way that he treats her is enough to remind her that she is still desirable, even without the Cheerios uniform, even without Sam.

Puck continues his argument for her attendance at Rachel's party, "Look, it'll be fun I promise. Berry is talking about having alcohol because she wants to get drunk in order to experience life or some shit."

"But she could get drunk with Santana—" the words escape Quinn's mouth before she can stop them. She kicks herself for even hinting at what happened Friday night, especially after spending the whole week without so much as a mention of Santana and Rachel.

Puck thankfully brushes past her comment, "Whatever, this is a party and it's gonna be just us Glee kids with no adult supervision. It'll be loads of fun. Trust me."

Quinn rolls her eyes at that one. That was one phrase she would never accept from Puck ever again. He registered that maybe those were the wrong words to use and he tried to back-pedal. Quinn held up a hand to stop him saying any more, "Whatever Puck. There better be plenty of alcohol."

Puck smiled, taking her words as the acceptance they were, "You won't regret it Quinn, this party is gonna be off the hook!

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AN: Okay so a short one here but that means that I will be uploading another chapter soon, Yay!

Your thoughts and suggestions are seriously driving the narrative for this story so please feel free to let me know what you think and what you would like to see happen with our girls during/after the Berry Party Palooza which as Puck said is "Gonna be off the hook." (Please forgive me for such lame phrasing, I feel sure that Puck would actually say something like that)

Drop a review and I will love you forever.

Stay awesome People :D

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Sidenote to any Australian readers: I really wanted Quinn to think that she was "Ropable" about what Finn says to Rachel. Turns out that Ropable is an Australianism that our American/Canadian/etc friends would't understand so I had to change it to "she is beyond angry". Lame I know, but I didn't want to confuse anybody.


	4. The A a a alcohol

So the party starts out exceedingly lame.

Quinn arrives just after Santana, Sam, Puck and Lauren so she is surrounded by couples right up until Mercedes arrives with Mike and Tina. What makes matters worse is the fact that Rachel has nearly no alcohol at her 'party'. Quinn isn't even able to snuggle up to Rachel under some pretense of drinking too many wine coolers. There literally isn't enough alcohol to explain _any_ bad behavior.

She tries making small talk with Rachel, Santana and Puck, "So, um what do you think of this whole alcohol awareness week performance? Do you think it'll make any difference?"

Puck and Santana wear nearly identical expressions of what-the-hell while Rachel at least tries to continue a coherent conversation, "While I understand the sentiment that the adults share _against_ teen drinking I don't feel that there will be any difference made by holding an assembly about it. I can't say that I have ever seen our classmates pay any attention to the messages shared through our assemblies before."

Quinn nods but really has nothing to add so she turns around. She's flustered and she mentally slaps herself for her inability to to contribute to any conversation with Rachel that doesn't involve some kind of verbally violent sparring match.

When Santana drags Sam into a corner to make-out Quinn makes a sneaky grab for another unsanctioned wine cooler. Rachel sees her but doesn't make any comment.

* * *

A few hours later Quinn puts her empty glass down on the high timber bar she's leaning against. It had been a few hours since Puck had gotten into the Berry Dad's alcohol and things were getting a little wild. She watches Rachel and Blain going through the additional info on the song they're about to sing through the karaoke system. They're all over each other, making Quinn grit her teeth.

Quinn can feel a line pressed between her eyebrows but can't seem to do anything to rearrange her expression. As if she didn't have enough to worry about between Rachel and Santana, or Rachel and Finn now she has to worry about Rachel and Blain. Her frown deepens and she can feel the anger boiling up in her again. She knows it's just the alcohol. Puck had given her rum which pretty much results in two possible reactions for her. Angry or horny. She's almost glad that her body has settled with angry. She can feel herself getting more and more drunk even with her glass empty and abandoned.

As the music starts Quinn smiles. This song is going to be great for Rachel to sing and she hopes that Blain can keep up with her. By half way through It becomes clear that their voices actually match really well. Way better than Rachel with Finn. Quinn can see in Rachel's eyes that she is loving every second of it.

Quinn fights the urge to leap up on the mini stage and slap the microphone out of Blain's hands. They're flirting on stage and their chemistry is amazing. Quinn could have sworn that Blaine was gay and that he and Kurt were a thing but with the way their eyes play over each other Quinn is having her doubts. Everyone had seen the kiss they shared but that was just a game.

At the end of the song Quinn glances around the room to see if anyone else is seeing what she's seeing. It's oddly perfect who is paying attention to the stage. Kurt and Finn are both stewing in impotent jealousy. Santana is glaring at the pair from her position in Sam's lap—she's twisted around with her arms still around his neck. Brittany's eyes are flicking between Santana and Rachel, a confused look in her eye. Something about the way Santana had shouted out, "I want you!" around her drink's straw during the chorus of their song may have captured Brittany's attention somewhat. Brittany is sitting in Artie's lap though so the boy quickly regains her attention. Mercedes, Lauren and Puck are looking through the song selections. Mike and Tina are dancing happily together.

Mercedes leaps up to seize control of the microphone. Rachel relinquishes her microphone surprisingly easily as she and Blain fall, giggling in a heap to the left of the stage. Quinn contemplates rushing over to pull Rachel away from Blaine but she is beaten to the punch by Santana who slaps away Sam's wandering hands and charges towards the pair leaning against the stage.

"Watch it Warbler. Thems Berries belong to New Directions so don't even think about distracting her before competition."

Mercedes hums through the opening notes of some R&B track as Rachel frowns at Santana.

Blaine is the one to reply with a slur in his voice, "San—Santanahn…You're the hot one." he states with a firm nod of his head and a pointed finger. "I've heard you sing and you're very good. The body helps distract the judges too. Don't worry about your Rachel though. I'm off duty tonight I swear. See," he lifts the collar on his shirt unnecessarily. "No uniform or anything."

Santana looks about ready to go all Lima Heights and Rachel finally catches on to the volatility in the situation. She reacts surprisingly swiftly, grabbing Santana's arm and pulling her to the ground beside her. Santana falls with a small squeak as the downward tug drags her nearly into Rachel's lap. She looks around the room in mild alarm and Quinn shifts her gaze subtly to the right where Mercedes is _owning_ the song she selected

Santana sees that no one is paying any attention to them—Kurt and Finn are talking with Sam and everyone else is watching Mercedes sing—Quinn wonders how no one else has noticed the near confrontation between Blaine and Santana but then she realises that no one else is quite so hyper aware of Rachel as she is.

Quinn continues watching the trio via her peripheral vision as she pretends to watch Tina take up the microphone and sing a song from an artist she's never heard of. Santana settles herself on the ground next to Rachel with their shoulders and upper arms touching.

Rachel smiles brightly as Santana makes a show of continuing her confrontation with Blain, "Look blazer boy I don't care what your angle is but you can keep your boy-band moves and sex eyes away from our lead soloist." Rachel blushes and lowers her gaze at the last words and Quinn glares at that point in the wall she is staring at behind Tina. She can see Rachel's pinky twitch and flex to run along the side of Santana's hand which is braced on the floor between their bodies.

Santana smirks at Rachel's blush but doesn't comment on it. Instead she picks up the collar on Rachel's dress, "And before I get distracted again, I have to ask Berry, what the ever-loving-fuck are you wearing tonight? It looks like something my Great Aunt Sophia would wear to bed. Before she died. In 1976." she chortled at her own joke and Rachel's blush deepens a little further, though that could be related to the way Santana is running her fingertips along Rachel's collarbone.

Just before Quinn can think that the two must surely be caught in their flirtation game Santana draws her fingers away.

Rachel rolls her eyes as she gives her explanation for the dress, "This is an homage to the 1966 classic—"

Santana interrupts her, "You know what, I don't actually need to know. What I needs to know is what's on underneath."

Rachel huffs out a laugh and Quinn nearly strains the muscles in her neck trying not to look around and stare at them. Did Santana seriously just ask that? She remembers how many shots both girls had consumed earlier. Yeah Santana _would_ say that.

Rachel tries to look confident as she answers even though her cheeks are aflame, "Well I'm wearing an era appropriate silk slip."

Santana's eyebrows shoot up, "So...sexy lingerie?"

"How is 'sexy lingerie' era appropriate?"

Santana shrugs, "I'm just going to assume that's what your wearing until you prove otherwise."

Rachel gives a sigh and Quinn can see Blain's unfocused gaze bouncing between the two of them. He's clearly too drunk to be processing any of this.

Rachel glances at Blain and then at all of their friend who are spread throughout the room, "Fine," she says with an expression much like she wore before announcing the game of spin the bottle.

Santana looks alarmed,"What are you doing?"

"If you want to know then you'll know," she says this just to Santana but then raises her voice to gain everyone's attention. "Hey everyone," she turns and steps onto the stage. "Everyone. Santana would like for me to take my fabulous dress off so as to see what is on underneath it."

Tina stops singing and a few people laugh as Santana buries her face in her hands. Puck hollers out in approval and Zises slaps the back of his head.

Brittany gives out an echoing shout of approval, "Hellz yeah! We's gon get to see us some Berries tonight!" She pumps her fist in the air as Artie raises one hand in a 'preach' gesture.

Rachel smiles at Brittany's enthusiasm, "Thank you Brittany. Although i'm afraid that is not the case since my undergarments are still actually quite modest."

She shoots a daring look at Santana who Is looking up at her through the fingers which still cover her face.

"This is ridiculous." Quinn is surprised to hear the words come from her own mouth. She hopes that no one heard her but when Rachel's eyes snap to hers she knows at least one person did.

There is a challenge in Rachel's eyes a she stares at Quinn and refuses to break eye contact. Quinn feels that stubborn streak rise up in her as the rum in her system keeps her anger on a slow boil. Rachel holds her gaze as she pulls her arms into the oversized dress and shuffles the bottom hem up her legs. Sam gives a whistle as Rachel exposes her legs and torso before dragging the dress over her head. She waves the horrible thing around like a flag for a few moments before flinging it into Santana's face with a sharp laugh. Santana lets the dress drop into her lap along with her hands as her jaw drops. Rachel is now wearing nothing but a bronze coloured underdress with fine straps over her shoulders. Santana's not alone in her reaction. Everyone in the room is staring at Rachel who looks around the room with no hint of embarrassment, only confusion at the gobsmacked expressions of each and every member of Glee club.

Tina is the first to recover herself and she switches the sound system back to streaming random music from an iPod. As everyone else makes a determined effort to resume normal conversation, Quinn allows herself a moment to rake her eyes up Rachel's body. She starts at her feet, still slipped into a pair of light bronze flats. Moving up tan legs, she gulps at the sheer length of them. The underdress stops even shorter on Rachel's legs than her usual skirts do. The fabric of it is light and supple, hugging to her shape perfectly. Quinn has never before appreciated such a perfect arrangement of thighs, hips and waist quite so much before.

Her upper torso is just as beautifully covered and exposed as her lower half. The stringy straps of the slip barely interrupt the smooth expanse of her shoulders and Quinn wants nothing more than to run her hands across the smooth, tan skin. Rachel's neck appears even longer than usual as her hair hangs loosely across the back of her shoulders where it fell after she pulled her dress off. Rachel is wearing a small frown as she looks around at her friends who are all trying to divert themselves.

Quinn looks towards Brittany hoping for a distraction. Unfortunately Brittany is also continuing to stare at Rachel, unabashedly running her eyes up and down the other girl's form. Quinn needs to make her own distraction now before she does something stupid. She jumps away from her well worn position by the bar and slaps Brittany's arm to gain her attention.

"Come on Britt, do a shot with me."

Brittany finally looks away from Rachel and turns to Quinn with a broad smile. "So long as they're body shots."

"Okay fine." Quinn agrees figuring she can get out of it once the shots are in front of them.

Turns out Brittany is pretty serious about those body shots. Everyone gathers around the table with the alcohol as Puck pores out equal measures of Captain Morgans into each little shot glass.

Brittany picks up a shot glass and turns to Quinn. "Okay, Quinnie-quinnerkins you needs to take that shirt off nowz."

Quinn laughs self consciously as Puck, Sam, Santana and—oh God—Rachel smirk at her, "Umm Britt I'm not wearing a shirt. I'm wearing a dress."

Brittany looks down as if to check Quinn isn't lying, "Oh right. Well are you wearing a sexy dress underneath like Rachel?"

Quinn blushes. She is wearing something like a slip underneath but it's barely long enough and doesn't quite cover her backside, "I am not taking my dress off Britt," she states firmly.

Brittany pouts and looks to Santana who turns a glare on Quinn which suggests that Quinn has stolen and then kicked Brittany's puppy, "Yeah you are Q."

Quinn tries to kick her brain into gear, to think of an excuse but she has nothing. The best she can do is think of a way to cover herself up just a little. She strips off her jacket as Puck grins like he just got all his Christmas's at once. Tying the jacket around her so that the sleeves are knotted at her hips she reaches behind her to slip down the zip on her dress. It comes down easily and Brittany grins in victory as Quinn slips the top half of her dress down her arms and away from her body.

She puts her hands on her hips, "Now what?"

Brittany holds out a lime wedge for Quinn to take, "You put this in your mouth and the bottle will decide who takes the shot from you as well as who you'll take a shot from."

Quinn looks at her puzzled, "You're not taking the shot?"

Brittany shakes her head and grabs an empty bottle from the back of the table, "The galaxy will tell us who should take the shot," she says with a mischievous grin.

"Universe," Quinn automatically corrects, watching in horror as Brittany spins the bottle with an experienced flick. Quinn closes her eyes knowing exactly who the bottle is going to point to even before it stops spinning. She had been spared during their game of spin the bottle, only having to suffer through watching Rachel kiss Blain the once. She has no faith that the universe will spare her again.

Brittany is the first to let out the excited giggle which tells Quinn that the bottle has completed it's final rotation. Opening her eyes one at a time she looks uneasily between the bottle and wide brown eyes.

Rachel is staring at the bottle like she can't believe it. The amusement she displayed when her spin had landed on Blain is clearly not present for this particular quirk of fate. She finally looks up from the bottle towards Quinn. She fails to reach Quinn's eyes before her gaze flits to Finn and then to Santana.

Santana gives a slight shrug which is presumably missed by everyone else as Brittany shoves the shot glass and salt shaker towards Rachel.

Brittany nudges the shot glass at the back of Rachel's hand until she takes it and the shaker, "Now, you know what you're doing here right Rachel? You have to lick Quinn to make the salt stick."

Rachel looks between the little salt shaker and Quinn who schools her expression into a stern glare, "Are you sure this isn't your shot Brittany?"

Brittany just smiles at Rachel who takes a deep breath before refocusing her gaze back on Quinn. Quinn's eyes widen as she realises that Rachel is actually going to do it and Quinn has no legitimate excuse to stop her. Her heart rate accelerates as Rachel crosses the circle to stand in front of Quinn who's cheeks flush and breathing becomes shallow. Quinn curses her body's responses. There's nothing she can do to stop any of it and her response to the rum in her system is switching away from anger to—that other thing.

Rachel smiles reassuringly at Quinn. There is a distinct sparkle in her eyes and Quinn is sure that it must be caused by the vast quantities of alcohol she has already drunk. There is no way Rachel could be finding enjoyment in being forced to do a body shot off her.

Rachel holds the salt ready at Quinn's shoulder, nervousness creeping into her expression "Don't worry Quinn. This'll be fun. Just relax."

God, that earnestness is still there even under all of the alcohol. Quinn just wants to give in and enjoy the feeling of Rachel's tongue—sweet jesus. Rachel's tongue—against her skin. She can't though. She holds her frame and Rachel's gaze determinedly right up until Rachel leans forward to lick a line across her collar bone. Quinn's eyes flutter shut and a buzz of energy surges through her system. She feels a sprinkle of salt falling to her skin as it sticks to the streak of cool wetness there.

The boys are chanting something and Santana is muttering angrily in Spanish. Quinn doesn't catch any of it though as her whole body tingles and thrums, waiting impatiently for Rachel to complete the shot. Lip, sip, suck. She thinks of the order in which the shot happens and realises she hasn't put the lime in her mouth yet. As soon as it's between her teeth and her arm has returned to her side she feels movement in front of her. Rachel is leaning closer to her body and she is resting her hand and lower arm against Quinn's left side. Quinn can feel Rachel's body heat through her thin underdress as Rachel finally licks the salt away from her skin. The boys(and Brittany) holler in approval but Quinn barely hears them as Rachel's lips brush hers and the lime wedge disappears from between her teeth.

* * *

Santana is up next in their game of Never Have I Ever and Quinn prepares herself for another round where she doesn't get to drink anything. The questions are—as always getting more and more sex and/or drugs related and Santana, Brittany and Puck are getting drunker by the second.

Santana looks up at the ceiling as she tries to think of something to get everyone drinking. She glances towards Quinn and smirks, "Never have I ever... done something sexually stupid whilst drunk."

Quinn scowls at Santana and takes a gulp of her drink. Santana has been actively trying to aggravate Quinn ever since the body shots. The look of anger and jealousy that flashed in Santana's eyes when Rachel pulled away from Quinn's body was unmistakable. So Quinn, for the first time in a long time is actively trying to control her alcohol intake. The last thing she needs is for all of Glee club to know about her drinking habits—or worse, know she's been lusting after Rachel Berry.

Sam is up next, "Never have I ever...made out with someone at the mall." His smile is a little triumphant as everyone drinks.

Brittany clears her throat as she looks around the circle with a smile, "Never have I ever grinded with someone with no shirt on," she takes a sip of her own drink and closely watches the group to see who drinks.

A loud spluttering comes from Finn as he snorts Sprite out his nose. Quinn's eyes snap to him though she already knows what it's about. She saw Rachel taking a sneaky sip of her drink. They were sitting side by side in the circle and it was all she could do to keep herself from leaning into Rachel's side. Santana's ever present gaze kept her alert enough to resist the temptation presented by Rachel wearing nearly nothing while sitting right next to her.

Finn is still spluttering as he points a finger accusingly at Rachel, "Y-you did that? Who with? Was it Jessie?"

Rachel scowls at him. She opens her mouth as if to give a negative but Quinn sees her eyes flick towards Santana before focusing back on Finn, "That's none of your business Finn Hudson," she says sternly. She shits her position and adjusts the hem of her slip dress. Quinn drags her eyes away a moment later and catches Santana in the same action.

Artie is up next and he clears his throat, "Never have I ever been in a riot at McKinley," he says loudly in an obvious attempt to distract the group and draw everyone back into the game.

It works as the whole group roll their eyes and take sips of their drinks. Mercedes and then Tina take their turns and before it's Rachel's turn again.

She has a mischievous quirk to the corner of her mouth as she searches the room for her Never Ever. Finally, she smiles as she thinks of something, "Never have I ever enjoyed an exceedingly pleasant morning-after with someone I have..." she pauses as if deciding on her phrasing. "Experimented with," she finishes finally.

Quinn raises one eyebrow as Rachel takes a sip of her drink. Tina, Mike, Brittany and Santana also raise their glasses. Santana is failing to hide a sweet smile as she also fails to not look at Rachel. Brittany is once again glancing between Rachel and Santana with a question in her eyes.

Zises rolls her eyes and huffs out a disgruntled sigh, lurching to her feet, "Well as fabulous as all this getting to know you stuff is...I'm bored."

No one else repeats her sentiment aloud but the circle breaks up nonetheless as the volume of the music once again goes up.

Quinn leans back against the wall behind her and watches her friends. When Rachel stands and is drawn aside by Finn, Quinn's eyes follow them. They're voices are drowned out by the music but she can guess what they're talking about. Finn looks hurt and angry while Rachel looks defiant and maybe even proud. A few feet behind them Santana is pretending to listen to Sam as he talks with Mercedes.

Santana's eyes keep flicking towards Rachel, obviously looking for any sign that she may need to bust one of Finn's nuts. Quinn is oddly comforted by this and she wonders for the first time if there might be something between them beyond the physical. Certainly the smile the two had shared during that last round of their game had hinted at something of a friendship between the two. Quinn feels that ball of jealousy expand in her chest again as she considers that Rachel could feel affection towards Santana.

Quinn scalds herself again for letting her thoughts dwell on the two. She had come to accept the fact that she is attracted to Rachel. She has stopped fighting herself when it comes to thinking about Rachel's body and how beautiful the girl looks when she sings. But for her to be jealous of Rachel's feelings. To wish that Rachel might feel something beyond friendship for her is just not acceptable.

Rachel finally pushes past Finn and makes a beeline for the drinks table which just so happens to be right beside where Quinn is still sitting. Quinn unconsciously holds her breath once Rachel steps within arms reach. She is still only wearing that bronze slip and Quinn can't help but stare at her shoulders. The taste of Rachel's skin mixed with salt and lime is still very fresh in her memory.

"Hey girlfriend," Rachel exclaims with a self deprecating wink. "Having fun?"

Quinn nods much like she did when Rachel had asked her this at the beginning of the party, "Yeah sure," she raises her glass. "The alcohol certainly helps some."

Rachel winks at her and Quinn is glad she's sitting down, "Well as your hostess, I am here to serve you so please alert me to anything you may require. I am at your service."

Santana sidles up behind Rachel and leans into her ear, "I'm quite sure Q would love for you to service her Berry." Santana obviously meant to whisper her comment but with the being drunk and the need to yell over the music her words were loud enough to reach Quinn.

"Right here Santana," Quinn yells at her with a wave of one hand.

Santana only looks mildly concerned that her words were heard as she scans the room quickly. Looking back to Rachel who observes her over one shoulder.

Santana starts talking lowly into Rachel's ear, "Esos golpes al cuerpo eran tan sexy. Seguro que a tu amiga rubia aquí le desea lo haría de nuevo."

Quinn remembers how they were doing that the night this all started. They were speaking in Spanish so that Quinn wouldn't know what was being said.

Rachel leans into Santana subtly but then glances at Quinn, "Sí, tal vez." She straightens up and turns her body so that she is standing more side on to both Santana and Quinn, "But it is rude to speak a second language in front of someone who doesn't understand that language. As I was just saying to Quinn, I am your hostess and it would be supremely rude of me to—" Santana cuts her off.

"Uh huh. Well Your Royal Hostessness, I require your assistance," she looks at Quinn as she grabs Rachel's wrist, "Sorry Q, I'll bring her Berry-ness back to you later."

Quinn resists the urge to physically follow them as Santana drags Rachel bodily up the stairs. Both are giggling and Quinn can't help but notice the way that Rachel's legs flex and stretch in the most captivating way with every step she takes.

* * *

**AN:**

_Esos golpes al cuerpo eran tan sexy. Seguro que a tu amiga rubia aquí le desea lo haría de nuevo._

Translation: "Those body shots were so sexy. I bet your blonde friend here wishes you would do it again"

_Sí, tal vez._

Translation: "Yes, maybe.

* * *

**AN:** Oh what? Another short chapter? Lame, I know but on the upside I'll be switching the POV back to either Santana or Rachel for the start of the next chapter because they're fun to write. I'm also thinking I might start writing multiple POV's cause that could make it more interesting and involved. Maybe? Let me know what your thoughts on this chapter are cause the next one is gonna be San and Rach upstairs. Alone. With jealous/possessive Santana and handsy Rachel.


	5. My Munchkin

AN: Sorry about the long wait. Work and study just got really hectic.

* * *

Santana keeps a firm hold on Rachel's hand as she scrambles up the stairs from the basement. She knows the rest of the house will be empty and means to take full advantage. After that little performance downstairs especially, Rachel owes her. All the teasing. All the flirty looks and that damn silky dress thing hidden away under that mint green monstrosity. Oh and the body shots; let's not forget about the body shots.

They were fucking hot.

And Rachel knew exactly what she was doing of course. She's known for weeks the kind of reaction she could illicit just by mentioning Quinn in a lusty grindy way. When Rachel ran her tongue across Quinn's body, being sure to give Santana a good view…god. For Santana, actually seeing THAT in the—very succulent—flesh was almost more than she could stand.

Thinking back on the display, She remembers Brittany paying her own role. Santana makes a mental note to quiz Britt on her part in the whole thing. Maybe if they ever go back to being friends like they used to be—best friends, occasional fuck buddies, true confidants—Britt can elaborate on what she thought she was doing in putting those two together.

Hell, if Britt would finally drop Wheels and come back to Santana then there would be no need for innuendo or body shots. Brittany could BE the hot blonde in bed with her and Rachel.

Santana feels a thrill run up her spine at the unexpected conclusion she has reached, accidentally stumbling before the top of the staircase. Rachel steps past her and Santana catches a particularly spectacular up skirt view of Rachel's ass.

"God Berry, In what universe could that silk number be described as 'actually quite modest'?" Santana mumbles as she stumbles up the last few stairs in Rachel's wake. Rachel glances over one shoulder with a glare, so Santana continues, "You know I like to tells it how it is and I tells it that this dress thing is fucking indecent."

Rachel smoothes the back of the skirt down with her spare hand, "Well you aren't supposed to be staring up it from a lower step Lopez."

Rachel uses her surname as if to mock her. Santana takes no offence, rather feeling a thrill at this 'assertive-Rachel'.

Pretty much the hottest thing ever.

Rachel drags Santana into the kitchen, dropping her hand to start shuffling through cupboards, "Okay San, what can I get for you?

Santana has to swallow before she can reply, "Err, I guess water couldn't hurt.

Rachel nods and steps up to the bench space by the dishwasher. She stands on tiptoe and leans into the bench to reach the bottom edge of the space presumably containing the drinking glasses. Santana can't help the little head tilt that happens as her eyes lock onto the expanse of thigh made visible by the obscenely short underwear, dress thing Rachel's been sporting. Really, Santana should offer to help her, since she is at least a little taller. Then again why would she?

With a determined stretch Rachel manages to reveal not only the bottom elastic of the tiny undies she's wearing but also that narrow strip of flesh that creases where thigh meets ass. Santana is pretty sure this may be her new favourite view of her Munchkin's body.

Her Munchkin?

Santana mentally slaps herself. If the goings on at the party proved anything it was that Santana was perfectly capable of being indifferent to Rachel.

Santana physically shakes her head. She refuses to accept that she might feel any kind of possessiveness over Rachel Freaking Berry. After all, shoving off Warbler and Finncompetant doesn't even count as being possessive because those two are practically begging for a Lima Heights tear down. Sure Santana was hoping to maintain certain exclusive rights to Munchkin land for at least a little while but that's beside the point. Using possessive terms like 'mine' even in her own head is an entirely unacceptable development.

Mind you, Santana is a little too busy enjoying the view of her Munchkin's ass/thigh/back to worry about any of that.

Wait what?

Rachel looks over her shoulder and grunts with defeat, "Saaaaan," she whines out with a pout that during school hours would have earned her a sound slap from Santana, "I can't get to it, will you?"

Tonight, with a three-hundred percent blood-alcohol level Santana just melts a little as Rachel pouts around the nickname. She is forces her eyes away from Rachel's upper(upper) thigh and is almost instantly distracted by the look in Rachel's eye.

Santana bites down on the edge of her tongue to stop from saying her thoughts aloud. She won't let herself say something stupid like, "You're really hot,".

Wait that was out loud wasn't it?

Rachel has the decency to blush for Santana's sake and even makes a vague attempt to cover the word vomit, "I think we need some water," she says with a happy giggle, pout completely gone.

Santana makes a show of rolling her eyes and nudges Rachel out of the way, hip to hip. The contact makes Santana's whole body pulse with electricity. And god she needs to calm down before she jumps Rachel right in the middle of the kitchen.

She scans the shelf above her, contemplating the best option and wondering if there isn't any plastic cups within reach. She's not sure if either of them should be trusted with glass right now. Before her eyes can scan the whole bottom shelf she feels a warm, firm body pressed into her back.

Rachel is pressed right up against Santana and her hands are drifting around Santana's sides, causing yet another shiver to run straight through her body. What's worse is she can feel a mirroring shudder run through Rachel as her breasts are pressed into the fabric of Santana's dress. Santana finally registers what her conscious mind had been actively ignoring; Rachel is not wearing a bra.

Santana lets her hands drop to the bench top and she grips the edge to keep herself from spinning into Rachel's arms.

Rachel seems content where she is. Her warm breath tickles Santana's shoulder as she sighs into the contact and shifts her hands flat against Santana's sides; her thumbs nudge into Santana's ribs and her fingertips spread down with her pinky fingers grazing Santana's hips. Santana grips the bench harder as she feels Rachel's hips pushing harder into her backside.

Santana is so distracted by the steady pressure of Rachel's hips that she nearly yelps out in surprise when suddenly one of Rachel's hands is attached to her right breast.

"U-um Rach—," Santana is embarrassed by the quiver in her voice and she clears her throat knowing that it won't make any difference when she feels Rachel's lips on her neck, "Wh-what are you doing?" Santana blames the second tremor in her voice on Rachel's left hand finding that spot just in front of her hip that sends heat straight to her groin.

Rachel hums and keeps kissing Santana's neck. Santana's knees quiver and nearly buckle when she feels warm breath and a hot, wet tongue brushing her skin. She's in sensation overload and needs to stop Rachel's wandering hands before someone comes up the stairs and catches them. For all that Santana is definitely drunk, she can't shake that damn paranoia. Being caught is just not an option.

Santana grasps the back of both Rachel's hands, resisting the urge to press down on the one caressing her breast. She tugs gently and Rachel immediately releases her and takes a step away, allowing a few inches of space between them.

Santana's back is instantly cold and she feels the tears well up in her eyes. She knows she's been rejected. Her fear of being caught has pushed another girl too far and Rachel is going to run off to be with some guy just like Brittany did.

Santana tries to cover the sob with both hands but there is nothing she can do about the shaking in her shoulders. Hot tears are streaming down her face and her chest is already aching; she has yet to recover from her last bout of hysterical tears downstairs and her abs actually ache a little.

When Santana feels a warm hand on her shoulder she instantly turns into Rachel, wrapping herself around her new best friend's shoulders. Sure, it might have been Rachel's potential abandonment that brought on this fresh bout of tears but Santana will hold onto whoever is there. Any shoulder she can cry on. Logic is not a thing she can cling to in moments like these. Rachel is warm and solid and perfect.

Perfect.

Santana lets go of Rachel abruptly and her tears stop almost instantly. Her vision clears even before she can wipe the last tears from her cheeks. Rachel is now staring at Santana as though assessing her sanity.

Santana knows that Rachel is right to question her state of mind right now. The mood swings that Santana has always associated with getting drunk make her feel a little bipolar too. She can only imagine what her hysterical tears must look like to other people.

She turns away from Rachel, already forgetting what they were doing and what had brought on the tears. Looking up at the cupboard she remembers Rachel's arms slipping away from her and she feels a fresh bout of tears welling up inside. Santana forces them down and reaches for two glasses at random.

Rachel takes them to the sink and fills both with water straight from the tap. Santana avoids eye contact through the whole process.

Santana takes a filled glass from Rachel, "Got any snacks?" she asks to try and dispel some of the weirdness still hanging over them, "Cause I think Puck might have spiked our alcohol with something." she smiles and finally glances up at Rachel to show that she's joking(mostly).

Rachel looks hesitant before suggesting, "I think we have some veggie chips?"

Santana can't help but roll her eyes cause seriously? "If you ruin chips for me Berry, you know that I will ends you, right," Rachel just shakes her head with a smirk. Santana knows Rachel secretly loves her Lima Heights swagger, "Please tell me that they're at least deep fried?" She continues as Rachel moves towards what must be the pantry.

"I believe that they are fried, although I'm afraid your more carnivorous appetites will not be sated as this particular brand will have used canola oil or some other vegan alternative."

She chucks a bag at Santana who manages to catch it somehow. It seems like her cheerleader reflexes can't be dulled by the alcohol any more than Rachel's vocabulary can.

She squints at the bag of chips in her hands, trying to read any of the ingredients. there is indeed canola oil involved somehow but be buggered if Santana can actually read any more than that.

She gives up and splits the packet open at the top, reaching in to grab at one of the puffy little chips. She holds it in between her thumb and forefinger an up to the light, inspecting it curiously. There doesn't seem to be any visible ruffage so she shoves it into her mouth, chewing quickly, just in case.

It's not too bad.

She pushes herself up onto the bench with a small grunt. It takes some effort since the benches seem to be built even higher than normal. Looking around the kitchen, it seems that everything is built quite high. Even the long dining table on the other side of the open dining area seems just a little larger than average.

Santana watches as Rachel forgoes any attempt to join her on the bench top, preferring to drag over a high bar stool instead. The chair includes several low rungs which enable Rachel to scale to the height of the seat without too much difficulty.

Santana doesn't bother swallowing her laugh, "So, did your dad's hope that you would grow some more if they surrounded you by giant things? Cause I'd hate to be the one to break it to them. But I don't think it's worked."

Rachel lets out a low chuckle and seizes the chips from Santana's loose hold, "They're both quite tall so Dad remodeled the kitchen to suit them," she explains, "Especially since they both love to cook. I was only nine or ten years old at the time so we didn't know that I would stop growing so soon." she gives a half shrug. "What about you Santana? Which parent do you favor? Are they both Puerto Rican or are you a bit of a mix? I'be always been curious but never—"

Rachel is cut off when Santana lifts her hand and scowls, "Okay, first up half pint, this is not twenty questions. And second of all, no questions about me and my 'mix'. I don't appreciate it." she scowls heavily and snatches the veggie chips back into her lap. Tossing a chip into her mouth she underlines the end of the sentence with a crunch.

Rachel swallows heavily and looks away. Santana feels a little guilty but choses to ignore the niggling feelings pressing into her conscience.

Rachel's eyes shift a little and Santana knows she's planning something but can't figure out what until suddenly Rachel launches herself at the bench. With a yelp and a struggle Rachel re-situates her backside onto the high bench next to Santana who quickly lurches forward to help Rachel wriggle in beside her. They both giggle like idiots, clinging to one another.

Gasping for breath and Santana finds herself with her hands on either if Rachel's shoulders with her face buried in Rachel's neck. She breathes in deeply and can smell Rachel's shampoo. She open her eyes and—that's Rachel's boobs. She can feel the blush that floods her cheeks as she stares down Rachel's dress. She should look away. She knows this and yet.

Rachel laughs and her chest shudders with it. Santana blinks and snaps her attention back to Rachel's face. She feels her own face heat up even more at the expression on Rachel's face.

"Like what you see Santana?" Rachel asks and it's such a cliche that Santana can't help but smile.

"As a matter of fact, I do. You could always give me another private viewing."

Rachel's face goes blank for a moment before she pulls back her most devious smirk, "Okay, I'll go get Quinn," she says, shuffling towards the edge of the counter.

Santana yelps out and grabs Rachel around the waist, suddenly very worried that Rachel could be hurt during her return to the floor.

The bench really is that high.

Rachel laughs as Santana bury's her face into her shoulder, murmuring incoherently.

"What was that?" Rachel asks through her giggles.

Santana squeezes her tighter and mumbles into Rachel's shoulder in much the same way.

"I'm terribly sorry Santana but I am missing absolutely everything you're saying."

Santana lifts her head finally, making the most of her pouting abilities, "I don't want you to fall off the bench and hurt yourself."

"I won't—"

"But you could and then we won't get to have any sexy times cause you've hurt your ankle or fallen on your nose or something."

Rachel pulls Santana's hands from around her shoulders and into her lap, "I guess you'll just have to help me down then. Unless…" she wears a devious smirk and glances around the kitchen, sparing a glance for the top of the stairs where sounds of karaoke distantly echo. "We could always get intimate right here."

Santana can't help the gasp which escapes her throat as Rachel leans forward and kisses her neck. Or something more with tongue and lips and a little teeth.

Santana shudders twists around to capture Rachel's lips with her own. They both groan into their first kiss of the night and Santana momentarily forgets all her paranoia as she sinks further into Rachel.

Rachel boldly slips the tip of her tongue along Santana's bottom lip and Santana grins even as she lets Rachel's tongue slips further into her mouth. Their lips meld together and Santana's eyes slip closed. The heat of Rachel's body is intoxicating and almost too much but not enough and Santana leans further into her, finally almost on top of her. Santana's left hand settles on Rachel's waist as her right keeps her balance on the benchtop.

They move together, finding an unconscious rhythm to rock to. Their lips continuously slide together. Rachel's hands…well Rachel's hands feel like they're everywhere and it's all that Santana can do to stop from mounting Rachel right there in the Berry's kitchen.

Santana moans as she feels Rachel's fingers threading through her hair and scratching against her scalp. Rachel's blunt nails scratch downs her neck, across her shoulders and stray eventually down to Santana's ass. The only response possible is to thrust her hips forward. Unfortunately the movement shuffles them dangerously close to the edge and Santana's hand is suddenly trying to find purchase against air.

"Fuck me!" Santana yelps as she nearly goes face first over the edge.

"Well that is what I was aiming for," Rachel laughs, latching onto Santana's waist to keep her from falling, "Although I guess we should possibly move to a more appropriate—and soft—surface to continue this."

"You think?" Santana scowls at her, embarrassed that she got so caught up. "If you think you can get back down to the floor—"

Santana's jaw is hanging only slightly open when she sees Rachel drop easily to the floor. Honestly Santana is still trying to work out how Rachel got out from underneath her. The fact that she is standing on the ground with her hands on her hips is beyond explaination.

"How did the…your feet found…wha?"

Rachel laughs again, "I've lived with this kitchen since i was ten years old. Do you think I never found a way on and off the bench in all that time?"

Santana had no way to argue so she shuffles herself forward and peeks over the edge. Her feet still seem to be a substantial distance from the floor and she has to wonder how she managed to get up there in the first place.

"Do you require assistance?" Rachel asks teasingly, "Maybe a step ladder?"

Santana rolls her eyes before she refocuses her attention and makes the leap of faith.

When her feet land solidly and without any twinges in her ankles she throws her hands up in the air as though she just stuck a difficult landing in gymnastics. Since her gymnastics classes were at least three years ago Santana rolls her eyes at herself and returns her arms to her sides.

"What now Munchkin?"

Rachel's smiles grows impossibly bigger and the corner of her eyes scrunch up adorably. Santana can't help but return the grin as Rachel takes her hand.

"Well,Santana if you would like to see my room I suggest you follow me," Rachel tugs Santana's hand again and leads them out of the kitchen, past the dining room, onto a set of stairs leading towards a door with a gold star on it.

* * *

AN: Thanks everyone for the amazing and super kind feedback. All the reviews, favourites and follows seriously keep me going. I'd love to hear what you think about this chapter with the little bit of insight into what Santana is thinking. I'd also love to know what you'd like to see next. I'm really sorry if it seems I'm ignoring any of your requests, sometimes the story just goes where it wills. All the same, if you guys scream for threesomes, I'll try to make it happen. If you guys want more Spanish I'll try to make it happen. If you want lord tubbington to ride in on a unicorn, well... maybe that can happen too. Just let me know k?

Love you all so much!

For anyone following Juicy Unicorn or FPS, they're next on the agenda. Please don't think I'm abandoning any of these fics.


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